


Something Safe for the Picture Frame

by Exquisiteliltart



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/F, Romance, Swan Queen - Freeform, Wedding Planner AU, swan queen alternate universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exquisiteliltart/pseuds/Exquisiteliltart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Margaret hires Regina to plan Emma's wedding to Killian. Emma's not thrilled about her impending nuptials, but starts to bond with her wedding planner who realizes she has much in common with the surly bride to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"We start with the guest list. I see you had invited 400 people to the first wedding. Is that an accurate count for the second?" Regina Mills sat in her office across from Emma Swan, looking over a huge file of information labeled 'Jones-Swan'.

"Uh, I don't know, probably should ask mom about that," Emma worried her lips and focused all of her attention, not on her wedding planning or the wedding planner, who was eyeing her in subtle disbelief, but on her hair.

"Ms. Swan," Regina swallowed and removed her reading glasses, already letting her exasperation show. "You have responded to every question I've asked you by telling me I should default to your mother."

"So?" Emma dropped the ends of her hair, putting an end to her hunt for split ends and wiggled uncomfortably in her seat. She lost focus a moment later and stared off toward the window to watch the leaves blowing on the trees.

"So, this is your wedding that I am helping you plan, not your mother's, in case that trivial fact has escaped the limits of your mental grasp," Regina sighed inwardly. She had worked with brides who were far too anal and needed complete control and approval over every rose stem and she'd worked with sensible, but nervous brides who whose fright caused indecision, but never had she had a client who seemed so completely disinterested in planning her own wedding.

"Look, lady, I appreciate that my mom hired you to do the planning as your job title is, Wedding Planner," Emma showcased her point by holding up the free standing plaque on the edge of the desk. It did indeed read "Regina Mills: Wedding Planner."

"You're not giving me much to go on," Regina replied, crossing her legs under the desk and taking a moment to look up from the flurry of papers that held the names of for the massive guest list, and examine the seemingly reluctant bride to be.

"This wedding isn't for me, it's for my mother. She's the one who insisted having the stupid thing at Disneyworld, but when the hurricane swept through on the day of, I thought I was off the hook," Emma said with a disgusted look of nostalgia upon her normally placid and bored looking face.

It was true that Regina was the best wedding planner on the east coast and thus why she was hired by Emma's mother to pull together a new wedding with a date less than a month out, after the first wedding had to be canceled due to unfortunate weather.

The most important aspect of her job was making sure that the couple to be married was getting the fairytale happily ever after that they wanted. Emma seemed intent on making that aspect incredibly difficult. What was she to do with a bride whose wedding wishes were in direct opposition to her mother's?

"I want to know what you want out of this wedding, Ms. Swan," Regina leaned forward and tapped her fingertips on the desk. "I can't plan anything if I have nothing to go on."

Emma had the audacity to roll her eyes at Regina Mills, "Look lady, I know my mom is paying you a shit ton to do this for her, I mean us, so just do what you do. I read your website; nice headshot, by the way. You bill yourself as some wedding fairy godmother miracle worker."

Regina didn't know whether to feel offended or impressed. She leaned toward offended as a default.

"Make no mistake; I am fully confident in my abilities. I've planned huge glamourous affairs on a shoe string budget and little time, but I've never had a bride who didn't seem care at all about her wedding."

Emma sat back and scowled at the dark haired woman across from her, they locked eyes and entered some sort of staring match that seemed to cement their conflict and create an even larger impasse at working together.

"Can we please just get this meeting over with?" Emma swiped a hand through her hair and looked overly exhausted and so done in Regina's opinion.

"Perhaps we should start over at another time when you're feeling…more in the mood?" Regina asked gingerly. She wanted to yell at this obstinate woman in front of her, or slap some sense into her. Truly, she wanted to know why Emma seemed so indifferent about her own wedding. Marriage wasn't something a person entered into lightly.

"No, no, the last thing I want to do is go through this again," Emma shook her head and sat up a bit in her seat. "Just ask your questions and I'll try to answer, but just realize that my mom is gonna come in and change everything anyway."

Regina tucked her chin and refrained from commenting. She tried a new tactic, "Would you care for a drink, Ms. Swan? Some of my clients find that a glass of wine makes the whole process more fun."

"Got anything stronger?" Emma asked pointedly.

"I do," Regina pushed her chair back and crossed the office; she poured two large tumblers of full of amber liquid and sat them both on the desk. "My homemade cider…I think you'll quite like it. In fact, some of my clients have enjoyed it so much they've used it for the wedding toasts instead of the traditional champagne."

Emma shrugged and picked up her glass, she sniffed it and then took a long swallow. To Regina's eyes she was barely tasting her precious creation, let alone savoring it like it deserved. She held her tongue.

"Okay, so guest list?" Emma asked with her fingers firmly locked around the glass. She even managed a smile.

"One of the first questions I need to ask is rather personal, and involves family dynamics," Regina took a small sip of her own cider and nodded in approval as Emma took a second smaller drink from her glass. She seemed to be enjoying it. "Every family has tension, so with 400 guests when planning the seating arrangement for the wedding and reception I try to be sensitive to any incompatible guests."

"Right, you don't want some old family drama/ blood feud rearing up and causing a scene just because you accidentally sat Uncle Ernie next to Cousin Duke…that sorta thing?" Emma said, lifting her eyebrows in understanding.

"Precisely, Ms. Swan," Regina smiled genuinely, feeling like they were getting somewhere. She twisted the guest list and pushed it toward Emma. "Please spend a moment and read through the list, place a red check mark by anyone who individually or in a group setting might be a red flag."

Emma swished her cider around in her glass and studied the list. She picked up the pen and checked off one of the names, "Uncle Leroy has a bad drinking problem."

"We'll keep him away from the bar then," Regina clasped her hands. Drunken relatives were easy enough to control.

"And um…" Emma gulped and her voice broke down into a whisper, "there's a problem with my maid of honor…but my mom doesn't know."

"What sort of problem?" Regina tilted her head intrigued; usually the bride picked her closest friends or family for the bridal party. In the past she'd dealt with issues with attention seeking or overly horny bridesmaids who tried to sleep with the banquet staff at the reception, (or in one case the priest), but those kind of problems never appeared in the early planning stages.

"Lily…my mom asked her to be my maid of honor and she accepted only because my mom is gonna pay her to do it, but she's not really someone I want to be there," Emma spoke in stilted sentences, her discomfort obvious. "I don't have many friends for the job though."

"Why don't you want Lily as your maid of honor?" Regina asked in a quiet curious tone, the expression on Emma's face made worried her.

"I shouldn't be telling you this…never mind. Its fine," Emma sat back and went silent.

Regina waited for a moment; she blinked and felt the start of a headache thrumming in her temples.

"Let me explain something to you, Ms. Swan. As your wedding planner I need to know everything. Things you tell me are strictly confidential and I won't share anything with your mother that you don't want shared. Think of me as a problem solver. I am willing to manage every aspect of your wedding down to the smallest detail, so if you want this process to go swift and painless you're going to have to trust me."

Emma seemed to contemplate Regina's words and her posture shifted again. The breath seemed to leave her body in a long whoosh and when she looked up at Regina her green eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "My mom thinks that Lily was my roommate in college and for a few years after…Lily was never just my roommate. She was my girlfriend. Well, now she's my ex-girlfriend, and things didn't exactly end between us on good terms."

"Oh, and this Lily, she holds a grudge?" Regina was trying to process the information.

"Yeah, I mean I don't know why she'd agree to be my maid of honor. She and I don't talk anymore so when my mom told me she was in the wedding I didn't know what to say," Emma was starting to get worked up emotionally. Her face was turning red and her chin was quivering like she was about to cry. It was a huge emotional shift from the stoic blasé demeanor she had been sporting previously.

In fact, Regina noted somewhat curiously, her emotions over this Lily were a hundred times stronger than Emma had displayed about her fiancé: Mr. Killian Jones. She decided to take Emma's attention from Lily and remind her of why she was marrying the man she loved.

"What about your fiancé?" Regina interjected casually. The mention of Emma's future husband just made Emma get even redder and shake her head angrily. Regina passed her a box Kleenex and Emma blew her nose and wiped her leaking eyes.

"I don't want to talk about Kill…not right now," Emma pulled herself together a bit and lifted her almost drained glass of cider to her lips with shaking hands.

Regina took a hearty pull of her glass. She was beginning to see that this wedding was going to be far more difficult than she had initially thought. Regina did know a thing or two about overbearing mothers and reluctant brides.

"Does he have any quirks I should know about?" Regina dared to ask, and braced herself for Emma to get angry or shut down again.

"Like what?" Emma responded forlornly.

"I had a groom who was a secret crossdresser and the night before the wedding he decided to try on the wedding dress, ripped out 3 seams….anything like that?"

Emma chuckled at Regina's candidness. "You're kind of funny, actually."

"I can assure you finding a ruined dress on the morning of the wedding that smelled like Old Spice was no laughing matter." Regina stood up and silently took Emma's empty glass along with her own over to the decanter for a refill. She didn't usually drink on the job, but she was quite grateful she had a healthy stock of cider for this particular meeting.

"Kill is just I don't know, uh, a man?" Emma stated while Regina was still across the room. She could hear the resignation in her voice, and she thought she knew what Emma's real problem with this marriage was, but she didn't want to call her out. It really wasn't her place to suggest that the bride about to engage in a heterosexual wedding was clearly as gay as the day was long.

"You call your fiancé 'Kill'?" Regina lowered her voice and handed the newly full glass back to Emma. Usually, the family drama and guest list portion of the meeting would be wrapped up by now, but this just seemed to be the tip of the iceberg.

"Yeah, like a pet name…short for Killian," Emma brightened up with her new drink in hand.

"And what's his pet name for you?" Regina asked trying to keep the conversation light for a moment to avoid the bride crying again. She failed.

"Oh, he calls me 'Whale'," Emma said passively.

"Why is that, dear?" Regina rested her elbow on the desk and cradled her chin in her hand.

"Okay, well it's a long story, but my mom is all into animal charity stuff. So one night she dragged to this 'save the whales' fundraiser, and mom put me up in the bachelorette auction. Killian ended up being the highest bidder and he joked that he had saved a whale, by dating me."

Regina listened quietly, reserving judgment, which kept getting harder to do by the minute. She flitted through the wedding file, until she found the engagement pictures. Killian Jones looked roguishly handsome, with dark hair and a bad boy vibe. He was most definitely wearing makeup in the photo.

"You and Mr. Jones went on the charity date and found you had undeniable chemistry and you fell in love then?" Regina offered to bridge the gap between the whale date and why the woman was sitting there in front of a wedding planner.

"Sort of," Emma shrugged, and looked into the bottom of her glass. "My mom thought we were perfect together, so she kept arranging dates for us. He was really into me, and even though he's a slowly balding alcoholic who probably cheats on me with whores down at the docks, he's my balding alcoholic cheater."

"How sentimental," Regina scoffed. "And they say writing vows is so difficult."

Emma looked up, "Hey, you wanted me to tell you everything, so that's everything. I'm trusting you."

"That's not everything is it?" Regina prodded softly and searched Emma's eyes with her warm browns.

Emma sat still for a moment before she spoke in a rushed pained whisper, "You can't tell my mom that I'm gay. This wedding is going forward, because I can't—I can't break anyone else's heart. I won't. But forgive me if I'm not all into this wedding fancy fairytale shit."

Placing a palm over her mouth, Regina felt panic and fear run through her. She related wholly with what Emma was going through. "Can I tell you a story?"

"As long as it's not some bullshit about not being true to myself, because I don't want a hope speech from the wedding planner who looks all put together and organized. I mean of course, you're organized you plan things. You probably have a big house and a perfect marriage so don't tell me that it will all work out perfectly just like life has for you," Emma set her jaw and she was glaring across the desk.

"I'm not married. Not anymore," Regina started, unfazed by the anger seeping off the young blonde in waves. Emma lifted her chin slightly at the revelation. "My mother, Cora, she had this wedding planning business first. She wasn't doing very well, so she had an idea to marry me off to the richest most connected man she could find and make my big day all about publicity and networking to get her business off the ground. The man she insisted I marry was 65 years old and I was 18."

"You married an old perv so your mom could get kickbacks from florists?" Emma was on the edge of her seat.

"When you put it like that, yes," Regina shifted in discomfort. She had never told any of her clients her personal history, or how she ended up inheriting the wedding planning business from her late mother.

"But you got out of it?" Emma twisted her face; Regina shifted again sensing the other woman was picturing the less glamourous post-wedding life she and her husband had been privy to.

"He died. Of natural causes," Regina explained, her eyes shifting strangely toward the ceiling.

"But no love lost?" Emma prodded. "Ever wish you could go back and make a different decision?"

"I do," Regina admitted squeezing her eyes closed. She had held a grudge against her mother for so long that she forgot that there was still a life for her to live. "I had a high school sweetheart, but that was over when Mother intervened. I had political aspirations, but again that dream was crushed to dust. Any more questions, Ms. Swan?"

Emma sat back in her seat and sipped her cider in contemplation, her eyes going dark. "No, that about covers it. Thanks for telling me that, but my situation is totally different."

"How so?" Regina was eyeing her own almost empty glass and realized she wanted more, but if she had another glass her tongue would loosen father and that simply wouldn't do. She barely knew this woman. What if she was a blabbermouth like her insipid mother seemed to be? Regina couldn't have her reputation tarnished.

"I'm gay, and that isn't going to change. Everyone treats my fiancé like this untouchable perfect prince Killypoo magical being. If I left him now, I'd be disowned…lose my trust fund. No one would understand where I'm coming from."

"I'd understand," Regina reached across the desk and took Emma's hand before she could think better of the intimate gesture. Emma looked down at their joined fingers, and felt the engagement ring heavy and cool like a ball and chain."

Regina noticed and though they both stared at their hands, neither woman pulled away. She told herself she was just offering a client who was in a predicament a small bit of sympathy, an ear and a drink, but Regina felt much more invested in the plight of Ms. Swan than she was entirely comfortable with.

"Would your family reject you on the grounds that don't love Mr. Jones or on the principle that you're a lesbian?" Regina asked boldly. Some part of her enjoyed seeing Emma flinch, but she could tell that these feelings and thoughts were coming from deep within the woman and they needed to be let out.

"What, are you supposed to be my therapist too?" Emma managed a weak chuckle.

"I'm not telling you what to do by any means. If you want the big grand wedding with anchor shaped centerpieces that read 'congratulations 'Mr.& Mrs. Killypoo Jones' then I will simply do my job, and leave you to it. Just let me know because my fee deposit is non-refundable."

Emma looked up at the clock and sighed. Regina could tell that she had pushed her enough for a first meeting, and while most brides became emotional during different stages of the planning, it was mostly with happy tears, not ice cold feet.

"I think I had better go. I'm going through with the whole chartered yacht cruise wedding because that's what a good daughter…and wife does," Emma said with a forlorn but resolute tone that made Regina's heart ache.

"I see, dear."

Emma stood up, finished off her cider, and placed the glass on the desk. "Really whatever you come up with is fine, I don't think we need to meet and at least now you know why I don't care so much about all this."

"I do, but I think you should seriously think about what you want, not your mother, and not your fiancé. I know you want more than just something safe for the picture frame," Regina stood to escort Emma to the door.

"Thanks, Regina," Emma nodded and eyed her sincerely. "I'll text you about the dress shopping. I know that's one thing I can't get out of."

"You can call me anytime day or night, regarding the wedding or anything else…" Regina blurted and then stopped in her tracks. She was not the kind of woman who blurted anything. She'd made a vow to never give clients permission to call her outside of business hours.

She'd made that mistake once before and had had to listen to every petty thing running the gamut from what color nail polish the wedding party should wear to brides on a guilt and alcohol induced crying jag the night of their bachelorette party who were drunk and accidentally blew a stripper.

….

Regina went back to work, but her mind was fixated on Ms. Swan. Nonetheless, she started going through her organizer to proceed with the wedding. Because the first wedding had to be canceled and rescheduled quite a few things were already in place and retained.

The caterer was no longer available for the date and Regina had to find a yacht that could accommodate 400 guests for 8 hours, but other than that the wedding really wouldn't be so difficult to plan. Her schedule was clear as her other weddings were at least a year out, so she had the whole short month to bring together the Swan-Jones wedding.

As she looked through the various engagement pictures, she could detect a detached sadness in the bride to be's eyes now that she knew the situation. She never looked at her own wedding pictures, but suspected if she were to look the expression of her younger self would be quite similar.

She decided to call it a night at 5 O'clock on Friday and retire to the bar down the street for a glass of wine and a light dinner before heading home. Just as she turned off the lights in her office and was about to exit her desk phone rang. She thought about letting it go to voicemail, but if it was something pressing she didn't want to put it off all weekend.

When she quickly crossed back to her desk she was surprised to recognize the voice of none other than Emma Swan on the line. Judging by her slurred speech pattern and background noise she was drunk at a bar.

"What can I help you with, Ms. Swan?" Regina didn't mean to sound irritated, she actually didn't mind hearing from Emma. She chalked it up to a good sign and felt more confident that the talk they'd had that morning had opened up their line of communication.

"I've been thinking…" Emma drawled.

"Thinking or drinking?" Regina smiled softly when she heard the other woman try to stifle a hiccup.

"Bit of both actually," Emma admitted with a swell of embarrassment ebbing into her voice. "Are you busy?"

20 minutes later Regina was sitting across from Emma at the bar of some dank dive that left up to her would not have been her 1st or 20th choice as a meeting and drinking establishment.

"Why are we here?" Regina hesitated in setting her purse on the peanut shell and beer covered bar top.

Emma shrugged dismissively, "Drink, talk, you know…."

"No, I'm quite certain I don't. Please enlighten me. Did you wish to discuss your upcoming nuptials?" Regina acted put out, but sharing a drink or two on a Friday night with this somewhat obnoxious yet endearing woman was better than drinking by herself. At least she was entertaining.

"You want a beer? No, you probably want a fancy drink like a martini or a whiskey on the rocks…top shelf for a classy thing like you," Emma was looking Regina up and down as if her secret drink order was tattooed on her chest or her legs…judging by Ms. Swan's roving eyes.

"I'll have red sangria," Regina ordered directly to the bartender when Emma flagged him down. "Emma, do you mind if we move to the patio. I can't even hear you in here. I can get my folder and we can go over decorations or dresses."

"I'll have sangria too," Emma asked and smirked at Regina. "So I was totally wrong about your drink order. Guess this round is on me."

Regina narrowed her eyes and asked, "Any other presumptions you make about me I can assure you are false as well."

At that, she rose from the bar stool, clutched her bag and drink as it appeared on the bar and made her way outside without seeing if Emma would follow. She knew she would and she did. It was a subtle power play, but it worked regardless.

Emma nervously pulled out the patio chair for Regina and wiped her sweaty palms. They sat down on the same side of the round table so the overarching umbrella shaded their eyes from the sun, as a result Emma's knee bumped against Regina's.

"You have me here now what do you want?" Regina sipped her sangria and felt herself relax just a bit. She was always keeping mental to do lists, but this meeting seemingly had nothing to do with work. For the first time she felt relieved of stress, except for the particular and maddening brand that Emma was providing her. She bit her lip to keep from asking anything else.

"Tell me some more wedding stories, please?" Emma asked simply. The sun was highlighting her golden hair, and the warm gentle breeze was blowing it around her face in a way that made Regina realize Ms. Swan's beauty.

She felt a pang for her. She was young and gorgeous and marrying into a loveless marriage that could only end in disaster and heartbreak. Regina felt Emma's knee against her own stocking clad one and a shiver from the contact raced up her spine.

"One time a banquet server spilled a full boat of beef gravy on the bride right before wedding pictures. That was a fun time," Regina started; if Emma wanted to hear about wedding disasters than she had plenty of stories.

"One time the wedding chapel was double-booked for a funeral, so we had half the place weeping over a dead man and the other half celebrating a marriage. Oh, and the bride walked down the aisle where incense was burning on each pew and dragged her wedding dress through ashes."

"Oh my God, that's horrible!" Emma laughed and smiled brightly for the first time since Regina had met her. If she realized her beauty before with the look of joy on her face she was absolutely gorgeous. Regina wanted to see that smile and hear that laugh again.

"Have you ever had to deal with a runaway bride?" Emma asked leaning closer in, her full attention turned on Regina.

"Not yet, but I might?" Regina inquired, wondering if Emma's drinking and thinking were about to lead to the decision that she was calling off the wedding after all.

"Nah, I just wondered how horrible it would be everyone involved. I just picture the lonesome groom driving off by himself in the car decorated with 'Just Married' signs," Emma seemed quite enticed by that idea.

"Emma, forgive me for asking this, but I can't help but wonder," Regina drew back slightly and frowned. She didn't want to disturb the relative light-hearted conversation they were having, but certain admissions had left her extremely curious. "Are you and your fiancé intimate? Do you enjoy sex with him?"

"Um, no…we've never been intimate," Emma leaned close to Regina's ear and whispered hotly, "or even fucked."

That word coming from Emma right next to her ear did something to Regina's body. She felt her belly do a flip and tingling warmth flooded her lower abdomen. Then Emma's next statement doused her like ice water, "He's wanted to…almost forced me to a few times, but since I turned a blind eye- or practically gave him my blessing to get from other women what I'm not wanting to give, he hasn't bothered me about it…as much."

Regina stiffened at that, which hit far too close to home. Her own much older husband had been the forcible type as well, and the admission made Regina stare blankly into space until she could get out of the mental experience and regain control of her emotions.

She swallowed thickly and Emma noticed the shift in her demeanor. "Hey, are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you."

Regina nodded softly and reached for her drink. She took another sip and became acutely aware of big green concerned eyes regarding her with worry. Emma placed her hand on Regina's arm and rubbed it gently. "Your old husband guy?"

Regina nodded tightly once and swallowed the tight lump in her throat that was preventing her from speaking.

"I'm sorry… I wouldn't sleep with Kill now anyway, I'm afraid I'd catch something. Aren't I just painting the picture of romantic innocent love?" Emma tried to laugh again but the sound died in her throat.

"Do you live with Killian?" Regina wondered; her brow furrowed in concern that Emma was being forced into physical contact she didn't desire.

"Uh, yeah, but he spends all his time on his boat house, so technically I have a big blue house with a white picket fence all to myself. Mom and dad bought it for us as an engagement present."

"Killian is wealthy on his own making?" Regina was finding it more difficult to understand why Emma didn't just dump the fellow and find someone who she actually wanted to be with and who wanted to be with her.

"He runs this shipping company, thinks he's a big shot. I don't care about his money, Regina, if that's what you think... this is," Emma added solemnly.

"Well, to be honest, dear I don't know what to think. You tell me you're gay, you don't love this alcoholic womanizer you're about to marry, but want to go through with the wedding to please your mother?"

"Yes…" Emma hissed coldly. "Things could be worse."

Regina licked her lips and fought off the urge to wrap Emma up in a hug. "Yes, they could, but things could also be much better."

Emma seemed to shake off the deep line of their conversation, and her demeanor changed. "Shit, we should probably do something wedding related since I'm taking up all your time. My mom is paying you for billable hours, which I guess our little chat qualifies as."

"Emma, I wasn't planning on sending an invoice for drinks at the bar…" Regina tried to defend herself. She wasn't someone whose time was bought like this, and she didn't want Emma to think that their relationship as strictly business.

"Would it freak you out if I told you you're the closest person I've had as a friend in years?" Emma was closing in again and Regina swore she was staring at her lips. The heating sensation was creeping up over her again, and she jerked her seat backward and stood up suddenly. This was getting inappropriate, but Regina didn't blame Emma.

In her line of work meeting eligible dating partners was never an option, and she never dated vendors that she worked with as she didn't want things to be personal and affect a client's wedding. She'd heard horror stories from colleagues in her field who had had a relationship go sour with a baker and when a wedding day came the cake didn't. It was in the interest of everyone to keep things professional, and Regina, being a lonely woman, recognized a kindred spirit in Emma.

"I think I had better go, I'll see you soon, with your mother for dress shopping," Regina abruptly walked away, giving Emma a casual wave over her shoulder. "Thanks for the drink."


	2. Chapter 2

The high end wedding dress shop only booked appointments for two brides at a time.

Regina was already standing outside, sipping a coffee, when Emma arrived with her already weeping mother Mary Margaret and her secret ex-girlfriend Lily. The party hadn't even set foot in the shop and Regina could already feel the tension in the air.

The other bridal party was comprised of college aged sorority girls who had turned the place into a party and were taking full advantage of the store's complimentary wine policy. The light classical music and minimal white furniture seemed marred by the raucous nature of the stoked group of girls.

Regina noticed Emma didn't seem to be on speaking terms with any of her rag tag group, and she kept her sunglasses on even when they were inside.

"Hello! Welcome to 'Beating Hearts Bridal'" the cheery and elegant sales woman greeted them with a wide grin that was not returned by any of the people looking at her.

Regina mustered a smile, and pushed into the shop to look around. Emma still hadn't said so much as a 'hello' to her, and she worried that she had effectively severed their communication by walking away from their drinks.

She wanted to pull Emma aside and say something, but Mary Margaret had her mitts wrapped tightly around her daughter it was a wonder Emma was still breathing. Lily looked sullen and bored and immediately took a seat on one of the many chairs that were arranged around the bridal pedestal, to flip through one of the hairstyle magazines that were displayed.

"Oh my God, Cassandra you look like a princess!"

"Yes! I'll drink to that dress, girl!"

The other patrons were past the point of gleeful and bordering on obnoxious with their shrill shrieking and bouncing up and down so much the floor seemed to shake a little.

Regina cleared her throat and let the sales woman lead them to the rack of dresses for Emma to pick something out.

"Mom, I can just wear the dress from the first wedding. I really don't need a new one."

"Oh, honey! For one, you've gained a few pounds since the trip to Orlando, that old dress will never fit your figure right, and that wedding was Cinderella themed, this wedding is sailing themed," Mary Margaret pinched at Emma's belly and spoke in a condescending tone that hurt Regina's ears.

She took another gulp from her rapidly cooling coffee cup in attempt to tamp down the wave of anger that was brewing. Regina didn't like Emma's mother, but she had to concede that she called the shots and was paying for Regina to basically do her bidding.

"Whatever, it was a big white dress," Emma mumbled and busied herself by sorting through the array of dresses like she was sorting socks.

"I can't believe it!" The other bride was screaming and tears were running down her eyes as she twirled in the three way mirror, holding up the skirt of her dress and fawning over herself indulgently. "I never thought the very first dress I tried on would be the one, but this, this is it!"

"When you know you know, darling," another sales woman said, clasping her hands together and clapping as the sorority sisters all formed a circle and squeaked in a pitch that reached a height only dogs could hear.

"Why can't you be like her?" Mary Margaret faux whispered to Emma, as she plucked the ugliest and poofiest dress off the rack. Regina winced as she practically threw it at the sales woman and kept hunting.

"I would happily take the first dress you throw on me," Emma replied as she yanked some more dresses down the rod. "Just let me try something on so I can go eat already."

Regina bit her tongue until Emma pushed passed her mother and started stomping off to the fitting area. She followed closely behind her. Their sales woman, aka personal bridal consultant, had unzipped the chiffon laden, poofy sleeved dress that Mary Margaret had picked out and instructed Emma to take off her clothes in the smaller dressing room.

Before she disappeared behind the screen Emma walked right up to Regina's face, "I don't think I need your help, why don't you go ask my mom about her idea for the ring bearer to be a bird."

"Emma, wait…"

Regina felt her mouth drop open when Emma ignored her, turned on her heel and flung the curtain in place. Regina stood there frozen on the spot by the indignant rudeness that Emma had just shown her, before her expression turned dark and she flung back the curtain. She would not be walked away from.

"I am here because I am your-," Regina lost her train of thought when she saw Emma in her underwear. The girl didn't need to be watching her weight, she looked thoroughly toned from head to toe, and Regina couldn't help but appraise every defined muscle from her thighs up to her biceps.

"What the hell, Regina?" Emma had been bending down working her skinny jeans off of her ankles, when Regina had busted in, in a blaze of fury. She softened immediately when her attention finally made way to Emma's reddened and tear streaked face.

Regina guzzled her coffee and averted her eyes, as she felt a blush of her own rising up her neck and behind her ears. "Your fiancé is lucky to have you."

Emma's face twisted in disgust at that comment and she tried to rip the curtain back in place, but Regina barged in not settling for being shut out.

"I said get out of here. I just want to try on this goddamned dress and be done with it."

"I'm sorry, that was extremely insensitive of me to say, Ms. Swan. I was just—" for the second time, Regna lost her train of thought. "You're wearing cheap hot pink panties to try on wedding dresses?"

At that observation another person slipped around the curtain. "Hey, I remember those Hello! Kitty panties," Lily snickered. "I bought them for her. Emma, I can't believe you kept them. It's been what? Four years?"

"Get out!" Emma screamed. Regina and Lily both took a step back, just as the sales woman stepped by to help Emma into the dress.

"My, oh my, we've got a bit of a bridezilla on our hands, gosh! Oh, that's a Monday for ya."

Regina looked over Lily with narrowed eyes. The girl looked average and rough by Regina's estimation. She couldn't understand what Emma had seen in her.

"Uh, maybe we should give her some space?" Lily turned and looked at Regina. "You know I only bought her those panties as a joke."

Regina nodded curtly and retreated swiftly, only to have the pleasure of sitting on the sofa next to Mary Margaret who was holding Cassandra's hand and looking at her wide eyed with this weird dimpled chin expression that was supposed to radiate caring and joy, but only looked fake and sickening to Regina.

"May your wedding day be as beautiful as you are, Cassandra. It was such a pleasure to get to share in your special experience," Mary Margaret waved and hummed in contentment.

"Thanks, I hope your daughter finds a dress today," the other bride said before skipping off to join her friends.

"One can only hope," Mary Margaret remarked as she noticed Regina slinking down onto the couch. "Aww, Regina I'm so glad you could make it to the dress fitting. I am sure Emma appreciates having you here. I don't know what we'd do without your services.

Regina smiled coldly and lifted her eyebrows in response. The sales woman scampered out before them and acted like a magician's assistant about to reveal a sawed up body. She lifted her arms, and stated regally, "May I have your attention please as I present to you: the first dress!"

Emma waddled out with her usual swagger. She was barefoot and drowning in white material. The lace and dew drop pearls were covering up all her best features and the cut of the dress made her waist look boxy. Regina knew from seeing Emma's bare skin, that the woman's waist was anything but boxy. Mary Margaret gasped next her, Lily whistled and hollered with a leer.

"I love it!" Mary Margaret breathed out in an exhilarated rush, "You look like a vision in white."

Emma fiddled with her black bra straps that were visible beneath the dress, and Regina could see the cartoon feline face of Hello! Kitty plastered on Emma's butt when she turned around in the nearly translucent chiffon skirt.

"I hate it!" Regina boldly announced, while the three women stopped their various fidgeting and stared her down.

"Yeah, what Regina said," Emma pointed listlessly and bent down to scratch at her calf where the material was already causing some sort of skin reaction.

"If you and I were getting married I'd let you wear a suit and converse," Lily commented snidely.

Regina sprung up from her seat and pulled the sales woman to the corner of the room. "It appears our bride forgot to bring her proper undergarments. Can you show me some of your wedding night lingerie selection?"

"Of course! Now, please excuse me, but which one of you two is the other bride?" The sales woman was still wearing her dumb smile as she pointed between Regina and Lily.

"Excuse you?" Regina asked dumbfounded. She followed the woman's finger so closely she went cross eyed. She stammered uncharacteristically, "That is a highly unprofessional assumption!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am… it's just-."

"It's just what?" Regina crossed her arms and straightened her spine in her best and effective imposing posture.

"It's just that you two look… right together."

Regina was rendered speechless as she contemplated what the sales woman was saying. She couldn't possibly mean her and Emma.

"Lily?" Regina questioned softly in disbelief.

"Oh, all three of you?" The saleswoman blinked uncomprehending of Regina's strange contemplative demeanor. Regina didn't understand her reaction herself. "We fully support polyamory, it's become quite popular and it really helps our business: I mean selling three wedding dresses instead of just one at a time is quite the commission."

Regina had to set her straight.

"I'm the bride's wedding planner, and the other… lady there is her maid of honor, we are not in a polyamorous configuration of any sort. I am simply trying to help my client find her dream wedding dress, and it appears you are trying to deter me from that goal. We'd be happy to take our dress search and business elsewhere."

Regina felt embarrassed and livid for reasons she couldn't express. Why would the sales woman think that she was with Emma? And why would she assume that low life Lily woman was as well?

"Of course, that won't be necessary. Let me show you our lingerie collection. It's quite extensive," the woman demurred immediately. "Right this way."

As she led Regina to another corner of the store, she could hear Lily and Mary Margaret fighting over the next monstrosity of a dress that Emma was fated to try on.

Loving the feel and look of fine silk and fabric was one of Regina's many guilty pleasures. She felt a bit more in her element as she perused the drawers and cabinets containing fancy white corsets and garters.

"Hmm, this and this," Regina picked gently through until she found the perfect combination that she could imagine hugging and accentuating Emma's curves. She couldn't deny she enjoyed hand picking the garments that she knew would be so close to soft skin.

She held up various styles of panties: thongs and virginal modest looking microfibers until she found the perfect cut for Emma's rear. She realized that if Emma were her girlfriend she'd only purchase perfect expensive lingerie like she deserved. Certainly, there would be no cheap cartoon characters looking like they were trying to eat her ass. Emma wasn't a child, no matter how hard her mother and ex-girlfriend tried to keep her one.

Regina chastised herself for imagining that she'd be the one to slowly undress Emma on her wedding night and pull her into bed. She sniffed loudly and rolled her neck to keep the mouthwatering and highly inappropriate thoughts away. Emma was a grown woman and her choices were hers alone. Regina was simply there to support her in whatever choices she made.

"Oh Emma!" the loud ever effervescent woman called as she took the lingerie selection back to the front of the store. "Your wedding planner has a surprise for you."

Regina grimaced at the tone in which she said 'wedding planner' it made her feel cheap. She rallied her emotions and was relieved to see that Emma's mood had downgraded from highly pissed to neutral with a pinch of downtrodden.

"What is it?" Mary Margaret asked in an overbearing rush, like she could sniff out anything specially meant for her daughter only and come running into paw through it first.

Luckily, the bridal shop woman had her back, "Just something to help with the dress fittings."

Regina balked at the dress Lily was holding up, in front of her. It was uglier than the last itchy poof ball thing. Mary Margaret really did have the taste of 17th century royalty when it came to weddings. The only saving grace was that Emma simply didn't care about any of this, so she knew there wouldn't be an impassioned argument on the merits of one dress over another.

Licking her lips, and wishing for another cup of coffee, Regina tried her luck once more and slipped back into the fitting area, or what was rapidly becoming the only bit of land where Mary Margaret dare not tread.

She heard Emma's voice low and sultry from behind the curtain before she saw her, "And here I was thinking you liked my black bra and pink panties, Regina."

She peeked through the edge of the curtain, and saw Emma's green eyes staring back at her. Regina looked at her own toes. The thought of Emma putting on those specialty items were causing a familiar ache between her legs. Regina licked her lips and gave up on fighting the sensation. She knew how much she got off on exquisite lingerie adorning a beautiful figure.

"I just think you'll be more comfortable if you try on undergarments that you'd be wearing for the actual wedding, dear," Regina's voice sounded thick to her own ears, like she was talking with a mouthful of melted honey.

"I'm here to try on stuff so I might as well try on more stuff. This has to be better than the actual dresses. At least there's less of it," Emma said as Regina listened to rustling and stomping on the other side of the curtain with mild alarm.

"How am I supposed to get these panty hose up, there's only one leg and why so many clips?" Emma sounded frustrated. There was a long moment of silence and Regina bit her lip. She was about to ask, but didn't want to upset Emma again. God knew she already had one overbearing suffocating mother, she didn't need another.

"Um, how does anyone figure out this strappy lacy stuff?" Emma asked in frustration. "Regina? Are you still there?"

"Yes," Regina perked up. "I know how to put those items on properly."

Emma laughed, but pulled open the curtain and looked her over. "And who do you dress up like a high class hooker?"

"Myself." Regina reached up and pulled back the curtain to let herself in. Emma had one stocking rolled half way up her leg and she was still in her bra and garish pink panties.

"Oh," Emma said simply as a flicker of emotion rolled over her face. She staggered backward as Regina motioned for her to sit down in the chair behind her. She sat and Regina kneeled in front of her. She looked at Emma for silent permission before slowly and gently unrolling the white stocking. She eased it up Emma's calf as she went. Emma stared at her, and Regina's breath hitched in reverence.

The act of dressing a woman in stocking was undeniably Regina's favorite, and to have the honor of doing Emma, well, Regina wasn't the type of woman to get down on her knees for the benefit of another person. Emma was causing all kinds of exceptions to the rules, and she felt her mind shift with each inch of leg she covered in fine silk.

Emma shouldn't go through with this wedding, and the idea of asking her to call it off was growing steadfast with each tug on the fabric. Regina ran her hands up the length of muscular calves to smooth out the fine wrinkles and then she brushed her fingers behind Emma's knees to bring the stocking up to her thighs and felt her tense slightly.

Without words, Regina repeated her ministrations on the other leg, perhaps she lingered a bit, felt a bit more than necessary, but Regina was a perfectionist through and through and she was beginning to believe that Emma was perfection incarnate.

"Where's the belt?" She embarrassed herself by sounding slightly out of breath when she broke the silence in the room. Emma pointed to the pile of lacy items behind her. Regina tore her eyes away from Emma's legs for a minute while she picked up the panties and the garter belt.

"I can put those on," Emma mumbled embarrassed and snatched the underwear from Regina's hands. Out of decorum, and trying to stop herself from appearing like an out and out pervert, Regina turned away, and listened to Emma shimmy out of her kitties and into finery. Regina watched the perpetually startled face of the white and pink cat sail across the room and land in the corner. A moment later Emma said, "Okay, I'm ready for the belt thing."

Regina turned back to her and slipped the lace belt into her hands. She stepped into it carefully and pulled all the way up around her waist. "No, it goes here," Regina reached for it and slid it down around her hips. She kept her thumbs hooked in the belt and snapped the elastic against Emma's hip bones. The action elicited a fine gasp from the blonde, and Regina smiled coolly as jolt of warmth struck her own center.

By the time she had finished snapping all the clips onto the lace tops of the stockings she was aroused beyond a shadow of a doubt. Regina had just been up close and personal with Emma's scrumptious looking rump and it had taken all of her willpower not to give it a little smack just to see how it jiggled. The underwear she'd picked out had been the perfect choice and perhaps a hint too small, but the way they clung to her ass cheeks was sinful.

Just as Regina was unclasping Emma's old bra, the sales lady shouted, "Are you getting it all worked out, ladies?"

"Just another minute," Emma shouted in a shaky voice. Regina tried to rush, despite wanting to take all day to undress and redress Emma in this way. She inhaled through her nose and fixated on the lovely symmetry of Emma's bare back and shoulders. Emma had to uncover her chest, for Regina to fit the strapless bustier around her breasts. She seemed hesitant, and Regina whispered, "Don't worry, I won't look."

"What if…?" Emma started and then shook her head. Regina desperately wanted her to finish the question, but she didn't think she could handle any more exposure to Emma's exposed skin and not lose her tentative grip on control. She was already breathing funny, not to mention pulsing and wet between the legs. Dress shopping wasn't supposed to be this arousing, and Regina needed to get on with this if she had any hope of making it through without getting slapped with a client sexual harassment suit.

Emma held the front of the ivory boned corset in place while Regina pulled and tightened the laces. "Suck in," Regina whispered in her ear, and stopped herself a hairsbreadth away from ghosting her lips over the shell of Emma's ear. This close and she could smell Emma's shampoo as she smoothed her long curled tresses over her shoulder so they wouldn't interfere with the lacing.

"It's tight," Emma panted.

"It's not," Regina countered. With a final tug she finished the laces off in a bow. Emma breathed out and turned around. She was looking down and pointing white silk toe out on the carpet and drawing circles sheepishly. "So?" She asked softly.

"So what?" Regina barely heard her she was hungrily drinking in the overflow of cleavage, her curves and the adorable V between her perfectly thick thighs.

"How does it look?" Emma sounded entirely embarrassed and vulnerable.

"Look at me," Regina stepped forward and lifted her chin with her finger. Her green eyes looked soft and pained. "You look gorgeous."

Emma smiled and held her gaze. Regina knew her own eyes gave away her feelings, but she didn't care. Emma was in need of a confidence boost if for nothing else and she deserved to know how beautiful she looked.

Sham wedding or not, this was still part of her special day. Regina edited herself from saying her true feelings on the matter and the part about wanting to undress Emma then and there, push her back onto the chair, spread her legs and slip her fingers beneath those expensive panties to work her just right until she came all over her hand.

The moment was interrupted by the impatient sales woman, undoubtedly acting on the orders of Mary Margaret to hurry things along. She barged in with the next dress and Regina glanced apologetically at Emma as she was swallowed up in layers of poofy material.

Regina had a hard time going back to the sofa and sitting quietly while Emma modeled dress after dress. Each one Mary Margaret would gasp and fan herself as she insisted that the dress was perfect, but then slowly as Emma turned around she would find a minor, but in her opinion, fatal flaw.

This process repeated more times than Regina could count. She lost track of time on the whole, and could only work to keep up a normal front while her mind was going crazy replaying the earlier scene in the dressing room.

She was startled out of her reverie when Emma hit her breaking point. "The dress will never be perfect mother! I will never be perfect!"

Then Emma was frantically pulling the biggest dress yet over her head, clawing and grabbing handfuls of fabric just to get it off of her, and she stormed back to the dressing room in just her lingerie, giving everyone an eyeful as she left the dress for dead in the middle of the short catwalk.

A minute later, Emma reappeared redressed in her jeans and shirt. The lingerie was still obviously underneath. She took off out of the door, without looking back at any of them, but yelling something about needing a pastrami sandwich ASAP or she would surely die.

"What's gotten into her?" Mary Margaret asked truly perplexed. Regina didn't respond and Lily shrugged and yawned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Lovely reader asks, 'Does Hook have a Hook for a hand in this story?' No, he's two handed as of now, but that won't stop me from making puns. When I was contemplating options for the reason the first CS wedding was canceled at Disneyworld, I was going to have Mr. Killypoo have an unfortunate bachelor party golfing incident involving an Crocodile ala Chubb's from 'Happy Gilmore', then I decided that would be a tad bit cracky for this story… but if you'd like to imagine he lost his hand reaching into the jagged open mouth of a large reptile to fetch a golf ball be my guest.
> 
> This chapter dedicated to Helena Solo for nominating me for a sq award! Thank you!

"Don't you think it's dumb to spend so much time and energy planning for one day?" Emma looked relaxed, her hair was down and straightened, Regina noted. She had her chin propped up on her hand while she leaned on her elbow at Regina's desk and picked through a platter of greasy French fries with the other.

"And money," Regina replied to Emma's philosophical statement, watching the other woman dip her fries in a well of ranch dressing and pop one after another into her mouth.

"Yeah, like it's just one stupid day. I mean why spend so many other days waiting for just that certain one?"

"Careful, if you get any deeper you'll drown," Regina sassed and couldn't help but smile mischievously when Emma paused right before chomping onto another fry, turned her head and stared at her indignantly.

"What over fifty percent of marriages end in divorce," Emma threw her fry petulantly back down on the wrapper that was smeared in ketchup. It was a mess, and Regina hoped that greasy smear wouldn't be transferred onto her glass desk top, though she was already itching to grab the Lysol wipes and Windex out of her cabinet.

She gave Emma her patented brand of special side eye, and took another bite of her salad: the salad that Emma had showed up to her office with as a peace offering of sorts after storming off and leaving Regina with the dinosaur and the dragon: Mary Margaret and Lily at the dress shop. She'd rather have a pastrami sandwich herself, but she wasn't going to turn away a free meal and Emma's company.

She wouldn't tell the bride this, but Regina had particularly enjoyed the moment when the sales woman asked Mary Margaret to hand over her credit card to the tune of $795 worth of bridal lingerie that Emma had taken off while wearing. Regina liked to think she was such a financially successful wedding planner because she naturally had very expensive taste, and easily able to convince clients to splurge for quality. Of course, no one hired Regina Mills who was working on a shoestring budget anyway.

"So you said you had some questions?" Emma appeared calm and collected, but there was definitely an underlying tension permeating their meeting. They hadn't really talked about any of Regina's concerns with the bride since the day Regina had walked out on drinks.

Emma seemed to have forgiven her, but Regina wasn't so sure there wasn't something more going on.

"I was told your parents wished to spare no expense on this holy union between you and your manly man," Regina smirked, knowing she was irritating the woman seated across the desk from her. "I can't imagine how much money they've already lost on the first attempt of the wedding."

Regina held her breath momentarily, scrunching her eyes as she watched Emma shift in discomfort under the weight of her gaze. "I don't know…you'll get to meet him soon though, he says he wants to come to the food tasting stuff and help pick out the cake."

Regina picked up her bottle of root beer and took a long swallow in effort to refrain from making a tasteless comment. When she properly recovered, she replied with her best impression of calm pleasantness, "I have an appointment scheduled for tomorrow afternoon with the finest caterer in Maine. I'll plan a cake tasting subsequently."

"Cool," Emma's gaze shot back to her fries. "You know my mom is serious about the bird thing."

At that Regina couldn't help but roll her eyes. She pursed her lips in distaste, "I know enough about falconry to know it's best to hire a professional, and I doubt we'll have time to get a Falconer to properly train a bird to deliver the rings on cue. Some things will have to be sacrificed due to the compressed timeframe of your wedding."

Emma sulked a bit at that, rapping her fingers for a moment on the desktop. Regina felt herself tense at the sight. If there was ever a question that Emma had committed a crime Regina knew she could lift a perfect print from the grease stains the woman was leaving behind.

Then the quiet in the stark office became unbearable. There was unspoken tension and it made Regina feel edgy and anxious. She rifled through the wedding folder again. She almost never felt stressed these days about her job. Occasionally, there were circumstances beyond her control, which she hated, but she always knew how to deal with things swiftly and efficiently.

She handed Emma a napkin and she took it curiously, wiping at her fingers and running it over her mouth. Regina should have found it unmannered, but she found is blasphemously endearing.

Her attitude and feelings towards Emma were anything but orderly and calm. The chaos this woman seemed to bring about simply by sitting and eating French fries was both perplexing, and if Regina was honest with herself, intriguing.

She cleared her throat and Emma looked up.

"Since you're here today unannounced-,"

"I brought you lunch," Emma cut her off with accusation of ungratefulness laced in her voice.

"Well, since you've darkened my door today, and so nobly offered me food, I was thinking we could actually get some work done on this wedding of yours," Regina didn't like Emma's tone. She wished she understood why Emma was getting married to this Mr. Jones. It couldn't just be because her parents wished it.

"Okay, well, I don't care about the flowers as long as they are purple and white. That's what mom said, and no, um, lilies," Emma offered her one opinion like Regina was supposed to accept it as a peace offering.

She looked up from the paperwork, and let her eyes rake over Emma from head to toe. She lowered her voice, hoping to get back to the casual intimacy and open the gates for a deeper level of conversation. "So what do you care about then?"

The effect the simple question had on the bride was alarming. Emma shifted in her seat and rubbed her hands over her face as if she was trying to scrub away her feelings. It wasn't ever that easy to overcome feelings. She kept her own features even and fixed coolly on the woman in front of her.

She was squirming.

Emma broke the silence by sighing loudly, "You know the minister is my mom's therapist? How messed up is that? She wants Kill and me to go for pre-marriage counseling with Dr. Hopper, but why would I need him when I have you? You seem to want to psychologically analyze me every time I'm here. "

Emma flopped back in her chair, and Regina did the same. She mirrored Emma's demeanor, and pushed away the black plastic container with the remnants of her salad.

She crossed her hands over her chest, "Again, thank you for lunch Ms. Swan. I'm not attempting to trick you psychologically or other. I'm simply trying to understand where you're coming from and what you want. Need I remind you, you came to see me? So talk."

Emma worried her lip, and cast her eyes downward at her hands. Regina scooted up and moved to sit on the edge of her chair, and chastised herself for admiring Emma's beauty. The sense memory of her smooth skin encased in expensive silk drifted into her mind and her mouth suddenly felt cottony.

"Why don't we move over to my loveseat, and I'll start a little fire?"

"Cozy," Emma sniffed. "I printed out some sheet music for the string quartet; if you pass it along to the musicians my mom will never know its pop music."

She rooted around in her bag for a folder and handed it over to Regina, who flipped through the mess of papers, humming in thoughtful amusement, "String quartet arrangement renditions of 'Somebody I used to Know,' and 'Chandelier,' and here we have, 'Timber' by Pitbull, featuring Ke$ha. What a delightfully romantic selection, Ms. Swan."

"It all sounds fancy coming from violins," Emma added with a mischievous grin that Regina couldn't help but sharing in. So this was her sly way of rebellion, Regina realized. She hadn't been as aware for her own failed marriage; she had made close personal friends with the maddening feeling of extreme frustration and powerlessness instead. Emma may have a better grasp on how to handle such an arrangement, although she didn't seem much happier than Regina had been.

Lost in thought, Regina stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her slacks as she crossed from her desk over to her fireplace and ignited it. Emma cleaned up the lunch containers and tossed them in the trash. Regina sat down on her loveseat and watched as Emma nervously made her way over to the loveseat. Regina felt a slight dip as Emma gingerly sat on the side, pushing a throw pillow between them.

She didn't turn her head, but glanced at her from the side, "Would you care for a drink?"

Alcohol seemed to be the most effective short cut to eradicate the distance between them. Emma nodded gratefully.

Regina prepared two glasses of cider, part thankful and partly sad that she had such a clear schedule currently that she was able to dedicate so many daytime hours to drinking with a sole client. She realized that Emma must not work given her availability. She contemplated that question, but didn't ask.

"We still need to find you a dress, but perhaps we'll attempt another climb at that mountain next week," Regina said instead, unsure what to talk about, but finding she did not want Emma to leave.

"You know I keep asking myself why I'm going through with this, don't you." Emma started speaking in a near inaudible volume. She was speaking directly to her drink it appeared and Regina scooted closer straining to hear.

"I have wondered," Regina intoned, unable to ignore the obvious demeanor of despair.

Emma sighed heavily, and blinked several times, before she spoke again. Regina waited patiently despite her need to fidget under the weight in the room.

"When I was 17 I went out on my own. Though I could take on the world, you know?" She looked up briefly at Regina for approval. Regina lifted her eyebrows and encouraged her to go on.

"I…um… ended up getting in trouble…found out I was pregnant…."

"I believe you told me-," Regina bristled and stopped herself from interrupting, but Emma picked up on what she was getting at.

"That I'm gay? Yeah, I am…"

"But…you were impregnated and currently have a male fiancé…" Regina felt a blush rise on her chest. The fire was burning a bit too hot in the stifled room.

"I tried…I am trying to be straight," Emma inhaled and it sounded like she was carrying the weight of the world. Regina refrained from comment, fearing she'd pushed enough already. "I gave up my son because my parents thought it was shameful. My mom threatened to disown me, and I—at the time didn't believe I could give him his best chance. I had no money, no education."

"And now?" Regina took a long drink, her hand shook lightly. The images racing through her mind made her disdain for Emma's mother grow tenfold.

"It's the same thing all over again. I tried to forget about the kid. They took me back; I went to school, met lily, and then things seemed okay for a while. I don't know what happened, but then mom was pressuring me to get married, and if I don't…"

"Surely you can support yourself now without your parents' money?" Regina asked audaciously. She knew it wasn't her place, and she should stay in bounds, but the picture being painted was that Emma was living some lie to keep her trust fund.

"Yeah, it's not that…When they cut me off, and I didn't think I'd ever have family again…I don't want to face that rejection again. It's better to go along with their plan," Emma spoke and each word sounded pained.

"Take the family you have over having no family at all," Regina understood then, but Emma nodded and looked off into the fire.

"It's really hot in here." Emma shrugged off her jacket and downed the rest of her drink. Regina vaguely registered the movement next to her. "Maybe I should get out of your way. Sorry, I didn't mean to go on about my stupid problems. I probably sound like a whiner."

"No, dear, not at all…" Regina didn't want her to leave on this note. She needed time to process the feelings that Emma had brought up in her own being. She empathized greatly with the need to please a parent and have that secure feeling of belonging. A sense of home and family was something, sadly, Regina didn't have. She hadn't had that for a long time.

In effort to lighten the air, she tried to think of something they could do to break the tension. Her eyes flitted to Emma's long straight, golden hair. "Have you given any thought to how you'll be wearing your hair for the wedding?"

"Uh, not really," Emma responded in confusion. She looked incredibly tense, and Regina could tell she was wary that sharing her personal history had been a mistake.

"Come over here," Regina stood and walked across the room to the corner of her expansive office. She had a mirror with light bulbs over it and a little table and chairs. "Sit, down for a minute. I want to try something."

Emma sat at the station and Regina felt her eyes on her as she opened a wardrobe and brought out a veil. Hairstyling wasn't really part of the wedding planning job, but on occasion during a rainy wedding or a humid day, last minute touch ups were needed after the hair stylist had departed. Regina always carried a blow dryer, curling iron and flat iron for any needs that may arise. She also sometimes hosted stylists who did their test runs of hair and makeup in her office.

"How about we curl it, hmm?" Regina plugged in a curling iron and laid the veil on the table.

"Sure, I mean I didn't come here for you to do my hair," Emma tried to deflect, but Regina was sure that Emma needed this. It was something tangible and controllable, and something they could do right now to feel productive in the moment.

When the iron was hot, Regina took Emma's hair section by section and curled it into large bouncy ringlets. Then she fitted the veil and pinned up Emma's bangs into a soft bouffant in front. "Look, Emma. You're stunning."

Emma managed a weak smile and turned her head slightly. "It's not bad."

Regina took a breath, and looked Emma over again, her eyes fell on ripped line between her bicep and triceps and without thought she ran her finger up her bare arm and gave a light squeeze. Emma must spend a lot of time in the gym, she thought as she continued to appreciate her impressively sculpted arms. She worked her hands up and squeezed her rigid shoulders once. Then she squeezed once more with a bit more pressure.

"Take a deep breath," Regina brushed her fingers through the fine curls above Emma's ears and leaned close so her lips almost touched the shell of Emma's ear. She could smell the clean scent of Emma's hair and the light salty heat wafting off her skin. Her voice came out deep and velvety, "Relax."

She heard the sharp draw of breath Emma took in, and felt the ragged shiver run through as she straightened up and watched the blonde carefully in the mirror, all the while rhythmically squeezing at the tired muscles of Emma's shoulders until she felt the tension ease.

"Good, just imagine how beautiful you'll be walking down the aisle. You'll take everyone's breath away."

Emma hummed in dreamy agreement.

Regina worked her fingers in deeper, squeezing her trapezoids and rolling her thumbs over hardened and coiled belts of muscle. She felt the telltale grain of a knot above Emma's shoulder blade and held her finger over it, pressing hard. The breathy, indecent sounding moan Emma released took Regina by surprise. She stilled her hands and tensed as a bolt of heat rattled her nerve endings and hit her core with a sizzle of longing.

"Sorry, you just… wow!" Emma exclaimed as Regina redoubled her effort and worked her strong fingers down Emma's back, she watched as her head lolled back on her neck and she gave herself over to the relaxing massage.

"Feels good?" Regina was unable to keep the delight off of her face as she trained her eyes on Emma's face in the mirror. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes closed. She looked like she was in ecstasy.

"Yeah, it's really…nice to be touched," Emma spoke in a murmur sounding as if she was almost asleep, but the voice was silky and sweet and Regina wanted to hear her keep talking like that forever. She could easily imagine rolling over in bed and being greeted with a kiss a smile and a sleep coated 'good morning' coming from Emma's lips in that tone. The fire crackled from across the room and Emma's soft occasional moans punctuated the quiet.

"I could get used to this," Emma whispered in a new tone that sounded erotically needy to Regina's ears. She closed her eyes and lifted her hands from Emma's back with great reluctance. Then she curtly unclipped the veil and tossed it aside. Emma turned in her chair and caught Regina's wrist in her hand, pulling her in before she could turn away. "Regina, I want-."

And just like that, Regina found herself drawn to full succulent lips and half-lidded lust darkened eyes. She was under a spell and leaning in, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Emma wanted to kiss her. She regained her senses, remembered that she was working with a client.

This was an appointment to discuss said client's wedding, not a seductive date. She cleared her throat and lunged past Emma grabbing the hand mirror from the table and holding it up as if that had been her aim all along. "Maybe you'd like to see the curls from the back? If you just turn and look here, you can see your hair in the big mirror."

Regina stepped back then and turned away from those saddened and disappointed eyes. She had to get Emma out of her office. She was walking a fine line that she could easily envision snapping if given any more time or close proximity to Emma and her damned aphrodisiac arms. She gathered Emma's jacket.

"I have another meeting now," Regina stuck out Emma's jacket and there was a pause before she stood from the chair and accepted it with a look akin to regret. "I think the curls suit your face."

"Thanks, Regina," Emma slipped the soft grey leather over her arms and flipped out her hair. "I'll see you tomorrow at the caterer's."

"Yes, at noon. Thank you for lunch," Regina smiled falsely and ushered Emma out of the door, not allowing her to turn back. Once she was gone, Regina closed the door and sunk against it, willing her heart to stop racing and the ache of want to subside. This was getting out of control.


	4. Chapter 4

Regina sat inside the restaurant waiting for the catering appointment with Emma and her wonderful fiancé. She was irrationally nervous to meet the future Mister Emma Swan after hearing all kinds of things about the man. She checked her watch again, and noticed it was almost fifteen minutes past the time of their meeting.

She rolled her eyes and sipped her water, contemplating calling Emma. If she didn't show up in the next few minutes Regina was going to leave. Finally, the door opened and Regina looked up. It was during the lunch rush, so she'd been checking the door every time someone opened it.

Standing in the entryway was a dude who Regina immediately realized must be the one and only Killian Jones. He wore a long leather jacket and had an annoying amount of scruff covering his cheeks and chin, and more jewelry accessorizing his fingers than Regina would deem appropriate.

She tucked her chin and narrowed her eyes, glaring at the dark haired faux-suave man in the doorway. He spotted her immediately and gave a friendly and effeminate wave, making his way towards her.

"Aye, you must be Regina, our wedding planner!" Killian ignored Regina's stiff and staunch demeanor, pulling her into a two armed hug and taking in a deep breath. Regina tried not to breathe as she'd already caught a whiff of cheap cologne and sour alcohol emanating from Killian.

"Where is Emma?" Regina asked in a panic as she stepped back in effort to detach from the overly friendly hug and in the process felt a distinct set of fingers brush over her butt in the process. She was already completely skeezed out and if she had to endure a catering appointment with him and him alone without Emma, she was going to feign sickness. Actually, she thought, she wouldn't have to feign it because his scent alone was enough to make her sick.

"She's parking the car, traffic was a bitch. Parking situation no better, so I had her drop me off at the front door," Killian replied as he sat down at the table and man-spread immediately. He was gazing at her, and wiggling his eyebrows. His ring adorned palms beat lightly on the table top and it was aggravating her last nerve.

Regina politely sat down and placed her hands in her lap, staring back in challenge at Emma's fiancé. She wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of him, but bit her tongue, remembering she was on payroll.

"I must say, Emma described you quite thoroughly so I recognized you immediately. You live up to the beauty she mentioned, but…" Killian bit his knuckle and made a grotesque 'hmm' sound. "..She didn't mention your rather… rotund booty."

"Excuse me?" Regina growled in a low tone, her shoulders tensing as she fought the urge to smack him with her Vera Wang handbag.

"You're hot," Killian clarified helpfully not backing down. "What? Don't get bent out of shape, women these days can't even take a compliment."

Regina scoffed, crossing her arms to keep from clawing his repulsive face off. "Your attention and opinion is neither wanted nor warranted."

"I know what's wrong with you," Hook waved his finger in her face like he had just figured out an important truth. "You're lesbian…"

Regina's eyes about popped out of her head, her cheeks were flushed with rage and she jumped out of her seat, waving her own finger in Hook's face. She took a deep inhale winding up to blast him with some angry truth of her own, when Emma came flitting in the door and rushed over to the table, putting herself between the pair.

"Hey," Emma's eyes darted back and forth between Regina and Killian. Regina tore her eyes off of her newly found nemesis and gave Emma a tight smile. "Sorry, I had to park like a mile away, but I'm here now…so we can get started."

Regina nodded curtly and sat back down, situating herself coolly. She appraised Emma's demeanor and decided she was just as nervous as Regina was. Killian put his hairy arm around Emma even though her chair was out of arms reach. He looked ridiculous trying to appear possessive.

"So…Regina, you met Kill," Emma was trying desperately to break the ice, and Regina wanted to tell her that her fiancé had spent every moment since he'd arrived hitting on her and simultaneously insulting her. Instead she perused the catering menu and hoped to get down to business, even as she caught Killian staring at the leggy waitress while she paused at a neighboring table. He had no shame. Regina fantasized about taking Emma by the hand and dragging her far, far away from the creep that she was going to marry.

"Excuse me," Hook hollered at the waitress, interrupting her from the table next to theirs'.

"Hi, how can I help you?" The confused girl held her notepad and pen and leaned over a bit to hear what Killian needed.

"Has anyone ever told you should be working at Hooter's?" He grinned and mimicked her hour-glass shape with his hands, pausing at his hairy chest to pantomime breasts, as he nodded and leered at her.

"Um…no," the waitress said as she looked startled at both Regina and Emma for help. Regina shook her head and massaged her temples to keep her cool, while Emma laughed overly loud as if her fiancé was making a joke and covering up his horridness.

The waitress turned around abruptly, glaring over her shoulder as she headed back to the kitchen, but she couldn't escape what was Hook's last parting shot, "Hey, what time do you want to get off?"

"Stop it," Emma grabbed his arm and loudly whispered, and Regina felt sympathetic as she was experiencing not only red rage, but also an enormous sense of second hand embarrassment. It was unacceptable.

Regina cleared her throat, and clenched her menu tighter. She had to change the subject before all three of them were kicked out of the high class restaurant.

"So for the first course I was thinking either the 'Sweet corn panna cotta with smoked trout, tarragon, and pickled red onions' or depending on your thoughts, the 'Confit Berkshire pork belly with apple, tomato jam, and cannellini beans'?"

"What about Lobster? This is Maine! Our guests should feast on fresh caught Lobster with loads of melted butter," Killian chimed in his opinion, grandly gesturing as the restaurant owner brought the first course options for Emma and Killian to taste. "Why such a small portion?"

He stabbed his fork into the pork belly and popped it in his mouth, working his jaw around the fat and making a scrunchy face. Regina stopped trying to hide her disgust. She ignored the beastly man and turned her attention to Emma, raising her eyebrows and smiling, "Emma? You've been quiet, how do you feel about the choices? Would you prefer Lobster?" Regina didn't give her time to respond she muttered, "Of course I'll check on getting 400 plastic bibs for your guests, we wouldn't want melted butter and exoskeleton staining their fineries, now would we?"

"I think I like the smoked trout actually," Emma replaced her fork after meekly taking a bite of both choices and trying to stay neutral even though the tension was rising at the table. Killian seemed oblivious as he reached in front of Emma and harpooned the remaining bit of trout with his fork, greedily smacking it into his mouth.

"Excellent," Regina exhaled through her mouth, keeping her thoughts in order, though she was distracted by the sunlight streaming in through the blinds behind Emma and illuminating her golden curls like an angelic halo. She had noted that Emma had curled her hair the same way Regina had done it for her yesterday. A shiver of tantalizing distraction ran down Regina's spine as she remembered their moment of intimacy from the day before.

At this point she had made up her mind, she was about to resign as Wedding Planner as she simply could not in good conscience approve of the Jones-Swan union. If ever there was an unholy match, and Regina had been to hundreds of nuptials, this was the worst. She'd helped 18 year old brides who were marrying 80 year old rich men just to get on the will, but in her opinion, this was worse than that.

She focused on getting through the meeting. She decided afterwards she'd pull Emma aside and resign.

"This is 'local Wagyu beef tacos with tomatillo-poblano salsa,  
smoked onions and radish'" the caterer brought the next course on the tasting menu over.

Killian raised his eyebrow and sneered at the plate, "What is this doing here?" I said I didn't want any Mexican crap at the wedding."

Regina blinked in disbelief, unable to hold it in any longer. She pushed back her chair with a squeal and stood up, "You pompous asshole, what does that even mean? You know I'm Latina and you won't eat tacos because you're a racist piece of shit?"

Killian pouted like he was a child being chastised, imitating a sad baby voice and looking at Emma for sympathy, "Mexican food hurts my tummy."

Regina huffed and reared her head back as if she'd been slapped. "Emma, could I have a word with you in private?"

Emma rose quietly from her chair and shook Killian's hand off of her arm. He was physically trying to pull her back down. Regina threw her napkin on the table and stormed to the back of the restaurant into the Women's restroom.

She rested her hands on the counter and calmed down, staring into the mirror until she heard Emma come in behind her.

"Regina, I'm so sorry…" Emma started quietly, approaching her gently as if she was an angry bear and Emma was trying not to make any sudden movements. "Kill comes on strong and I know he offended you, but…"

"What the hell are you doing with him, Emma?" Regina's voice came out louder than she intended and far shakier. "Forget about your mother, forget about doing what you think you should do and live your truth! Can you honestly tell me, that man is who you want to be with?" Regina got louder as she faced Emma, her chest was heaving as she got more and more worked up.

"I told you…" Emma hung her head and trailed off into silence.

"Yes, you've told me and I've listened to you…and the person you present…the way you carry yourself…I-I see flashes of a strong, confident woman underneath the aloofness and the outright misery…and Emma, I'm going to tell you something that took a long time for me to learn…"

"Don't say it, I know…but I have to…" Emma's voice sounded raw and broken. Regina heard a toilet flush and she colored with embarrassment when she realized they weren't alone in the restroom. There was a long awkward moment as a lunching lady moved between them to wash her hands. Regina stepped backward unable to meet Emma's eyes.

After what felt like an eternity the woman left, and Regina waited until she was positively certain they were alone.

"Listen…no one can make you happy but yourself. No one has that power over you. You are the only one who can make yourself unhappy too, but he—he doesn't love you, and you sure as hell don't love him," Regina was shaking in anger, her forehead vein was pulsing and her hands were balled into fists. She needed Emma to wake up and see what was happening. She needed her to understand.

"What are you saying? You think I should choose not having a family anymore and being alone forever instead of marrying Killian?" When Emma looked up, her cheeks were stained with tears.

"I'm not saying that," Regina's tone softened. Her chest started to ache at seeing the blonde in apparent pain. "Emma, you're young, you're beautiful and if you deserve a loving and equal relationship. You can do whatever you want to do, but knowing you..and after meeting the clueless hairy horn dog that you call your fiancé, I have to resign. I can't keep planning this wedding."

"No, Regina…you're the only one who has kept me sane through this! I want you…I need you to do this with me," Emma's tone turned pleading. She grabbed Regina's arm in desperation. Regina felt tears welling up in her own eyes. She shook her head sadly. "You're not thinking straight, Ms. Swan…"

"Ms. Swan?" Emma questioned her, her grip tightening on Regina's arm and stepping closer into her personal space. "Please don't call me that…Regina, you're my friend."

"You thought we were friends?" Regina hissed venomously. It was a learned defense mechanism, whenever she felt herself growing soft, she'd push away forcefully. It didn't hurt as badly that way. She was already mourning the loss of what she had considered a friendship with Emma, but it was better this way.

She'd gather her purse, if the ruthless drunk she'd left at the table hadn't rifled through it for spare change like it was treasure to be claimed, and walked out of the restaurant. She'd never see Emma Swan again. She'd void the contract and decline her fee. That would be that. The wedding could go on without her. It wouldn't be as fabulous or well-organized, but if Emma wanted to marry her balding beard, far be it from Regina to stand in the way.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Regina tried to wrench her arm free from Emma's rather clinging grip. "Please inform your mother that I can no longer provide my services."

She turned away from Emma and ripped her arm away. She attempted to compose herself so she could exit the restroom with dignity. She planned to head straight home, without passing go, and crawl into bed with a bucket of ice cream and a bottle of wine. She would turn off her phone and pull her black out curtains over the windows so she could be alone.

All of that was racing through her mind so she her reaction time was nonexistent when Emma grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the metal side of the first stall. Regina gasped and then had her breath stolen away in one fell swoop as Emma pressed the length of her body against hers, and most notably, along with her lips.

Emma was kissing her, and Regina's eyes were wide open before she had the decency to realize it was rude to kiss with one's eyes open. So she squeezed them shut and inadvertently parted her lips to allow Emma to deepen the kiss. She was so stunned she couldn't stop herself from kissing Emma back, even as shame and lust flared up in her body.

She was pinned against the stall; the kiss was tasted of anger and passion. All of the emotion she had forced down was pouring out through her lips as she tasted and teased Emma with her mouth. When Emma pulled back breathless, Regina focused on her swollen lips and watched her mouth form whispered words, "This is what I want."

Regina shuddered involuntarily, her head slammed back against the metal hard, as Emma continued to whisper as she kissed down Regina's jaw, and neck: "want."

She kissed her again and Regina allowed it reveling in the brush of dry lips against her sensitive pulse point.

"Want," Emma murmured again.

It was going to happen eventually, the fear of being caught had momentarily left Regina's mind, but the idea that anyone could walk in at any time had Regina pushing Emma off of her and scrambling to get ahold of her ruined senses.

"I'm sorry," Emma leaned in one more time and placed one last gentle kiss on her lips. Then she bent her head and rested it against her forehead, while Regina swallowed and tried to calm her pounding heart.

"Let me go."

It took every ounce of strength, with the taste and buzz of the Emma's kiss still fresh on her lips, and soul crushing sensation of cool air hitting her over heated body as she raced past and pulled open the door. She couldn't stop herself from pausing with the door half open and turning to look at Emma.

Her posture was open and wanting, her expression was equal parts fear and exhilaration. It mirrored Regina's feelings perfectly. She didn't pause or turn back until she arrived home to the sanctuary and safety of her bedroom covers, but it was too late: Emma had already fully invaded her heart and mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Four days had passed since the disastrous catering appointment that resulted in Emma kissing Regina in a restaurant restroom. She had fled as fast as she could in an attempt to get some air and put some distance between Emma and herself.

Killian didn't even notice when Regina grabbed her unattended purse from the table, as she saw him over at the window chatting up a couple of college coeds. Regina hadn't felt like she could properly breathe until she made it home and into her room. She felt like her heart had ruptured and was slowly bleeding.

The thing Regina had quickly discovered is that it was nearly impossible to quit planning the wedding.

She was the contact for the florists, decorators, cruise ship and caterer, and the calls kept coming. Probably because she had been so adamant that every detail or minute change had to be personally approved by her, since the wedding was being planned so quickly and nothing could slip through the cracks. She found herself fielding calls from everything ranging from the candle holders to the place cards, and it all felt overwhelming and bleak.

Now Regina was the one slipping through the cracks, and as brave as she had been to tell Emma her true opinion, she now cowardly avoided her. But blackout curtains and red wine couldn't remove the sense memory of sweet lips against hers, or the painful ache that had settled into her chest.

She had always been a proponent of the old adage that time could heal all wounds. She had nearly forgiven her mother for forcing her to marry an old man and it had only taken sixteen years. She had only known Emma for a few weeks so it shouldn't take hardly any time to get over her, and Regina wondered bitterly if there was nothing to get over then why did four days of isolation, wine and Netflix not make a dent in the pain she was experiencing.

The thought of spending the weekend alone in her big bed, listening to her phone chime with updates on Emma's wedding was maddening. The trouble was she had to look at her phone and make a decision. It could ruin her professional reputation if she bailed and broke her contract on a wedding of this caliber. The Blanchard's were grossly rich and well connected with every upper class old money family in the greater Boston area if not the entire East Coast.

If she quit as the miracle working pinch hitter wedding planner for the Blanchard's only child on her shiny white wedding day, Regina would undoubtedly be blacklisted. She'd never get another planning job, save for maybe a pity Child's birthday here or there. If she didn't want her future to consist of booking bouncy castles and ordering 'Frozen' themed princess cakes, she was going to have to answer Emma's incessant calls at some point.

Regina rolled over in bed to look at her clock. It was Friday afternoon, and she'd been in hiding for nearly four days. It was time to get up and swallow her pride. She picked up her phone, swiped in the passcode and listened to one of the voicemails that Emma had left:

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have kissed you…it just seemed like the only thing I could do…Please talk to me."

She'd already listened to it so many times she had the sad desperate sincere tone of Emma's voice etched into her mind. She knew the message by heart forwards and backwards, and she wholly realized she was acting like a pathetic wreck. She'd had year's long relationships that ended and she hadn't been nearly so bent out of shape. It was becoming disturbing how the more she tried to put Emma and her big bag of gay wedding bullshit out of her mind, the more she dwelled on it.

After sleeping for another hour, she felt completely restless. She wanted to get up, but she had nowhere to go. It was times like these that Regina realized why she kept her so busy and focused on work. She didn't want to feel the loneliness in such a puncturing and invasive way. She was also reminded of why she had tried to close herself off to relationships and dating, especially unattainable client's daughters who were about to wed disgusting misogynists. Been there, done that, Regina thought wryly.

After a long hot shower where she was able to turn her mind off and truly gain a moment of peace, Regina decided she needed to talk to Emma and clear the air as best as she possibly could. She picked up her phone and was about to dial when the sound of it ringing and vibrating in her hand startled her.

She stared at the Caller ID and her lips parted in fear. Emma was calling her again. She let it ring twice more and debated on letting it roll over to voicemail, but before the next ring she punched the green button and placed the device to her ear.

She heard a soft gasp on the other end of the line and low music in the background. Emma's voice was timid and carried over a hint of surprise when she spoke, "You answered."

"Yes," Regina said unable to gather any coherent thoughts.

"I-I'm glad. I wanted to talk to you…all week," Emma continued, and the music in the background seemed to swell and get louder. "Leave it to fate that Adele put out a new album right when I'm in the middle of an emotional crisis."

"Is that what that noise is in the background? Adele?" Regina asked straining to hear and sure enough it was the chorus, "Hello from the other side…."

"Yeah, I've had it on repeat here," Emma admitted, and Regina could almost picture the blonde curled up on her sofa or sitting in bed, smiling sheepishly and bowing her head at getting caught.

Then the awkward silence kicked in as they both sat on opposite ends of the phone line, neither woman sure as to where to begin.

It was strange that the anxious nervousness that had plagued Regina all week had suddenly calmed down. She couldn't remember exactly what she had been so afraid of. Emma made her feel comfortable; it was everything going on around her that caused Regina strife.

"So…." Emma started in hesitation. "I talked to my parents and I told them that I don't want to marry Killian."

Regina held her breath at the topic starter. From Emma's quietness she was certain that although it sounded like a step in the right direction, this wasn't the good news she had secretly hoped for.

"They were…kind of understanding, but still acted so dismissive of my feelings, and I had to agree to couple's therapy to get to the root of our issues," Emma said brokenly. "I'm sitting alone at the Ritz Carlton in a suite, because my mom insisted on giving Killian a weekend of pampering to get away and reconnect or something."

Regina was confused. Emma was at the Ritz listening to Adele in a suite. "You're by yourself?"

"Yeah, but don't tell my mom that Killian didn't come along. The weekend package includes an all-inclusive spa day, but when Kill found out it wasn't like his favorite rub n' tug massage parlor where instead of a pedicure the girl just sucks his toes, he decided to go to the Shipyard and get wasted with his friends this weekend."

"So you're alone?" Regina asked again. She wondered why Emma was telling her about the hotel and she still didn't know if the wedding was on or off. Regina was really starting to hate Emma's parents.

Emma sighed deeply on the other end of the line and whispered sadly, "I don't want to be."

Regina perked up at the tone of longing in Emma's voice and licked her lips gingerly, "Are you inviting me to come…talk?"

"I mean if you're not like busy or whatever…I could use a friend right now," Emma made the statement without really asking a question, and Regina couldn't believe that she was actually considering going to meet her in a hotel room.

"It would be a waste if this extra spa day went unused, or I guess I could just get two massages, but I'd prefer…" Emma was rambling and cut herself off before she said anymore of what her preferences were. Regina hated that she found the uncertainty adorable.

"What's your room number?" Regina seemed to be the one asking all the questions, banging her palm against her head, even as she blatantly went against her own better judgment.

"658!" Emma practically shouted the room number, excitement evident in her voice. Clearly, she hadn't expected Regina to agree, especially after avoiding her calls all week. "I promise to turn down the Adele if you promise to spend the night?"

Regina felt the whole implication of that question rattle her to the core as a pang of arousal hit her squarely. "Emma, I'll come talk to you…to work things out."

"Fine, no promises," Emma agreed sadly. Regina had been in this situation before with Emma. It was starting to get redundant: the sheer number of thoughts and the overwhelming desire for the forlorn bride to be had her agreeing to foolish arrangements, and testing her self-control time and again.

"I'll see you soon," Regina nodded resolutely even though Emma couldn't see her, it was a gesture to steel herself as she wondered if she was going in too deep this time around. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath.

She was trapped between a champagne goblet and a cake serving set. If she quit planning the wedding, her reputation would be irrevocably tarnished, and if she acted on her feelings and word got out that she broke up the marriage between her clients, that would be even more detrimental. Still, perhaps she was going through some rebellion of her own, and the thoughts and feelings she was dealing with made her reckless.

There was something cavalier and naughty in the whole endeavor and she had to admit to herself that her intentions with Emma were less than her normal idea of moral and ethical when it came to business. Still the thought of seeing her carried an unexpected exuberance and giddiness that eased the tension in her chest, and as she left her house to drive downtown, she realized she hadn't felt exactly that way since she was a teenager.

Traffic was relatively light flowing into the city and Regina stared at the taillights ahead of her in anticipation. She valeted her Benz, grimacing a bit when the idea that she may have to make a quick getaway if this meeting and subsequent talk with Emma didn't go well. She slid the valet ticket in her wallet and stepped into the lobby of the lavish Ritz.

They were just going to see how things went, there was no pressure and she reminded herself she hadn't done anything wrong. Things were in stasis; up in the air. She hadn't breached her contract, nor had Emma alled off the wedding…yet.

She entered the elevator with confidence, pleased that she was the only person in the car so she took the opportunity to check her makeup in the mirrored doors. If she looked close enough, she could see the dark circles tinged with red around her eyes. She examined the soft wrinkles that reminded her that time was fleeting, and so was her opportunity to find true happiness.

Her confidence vanishedhe moment she stepped out of the elevator and stared down the long hallway of the sixth floor. She found the room easily and smirked when she stood in front of the door listening to faint strands of music coming from within.

Regina knocked with business like precision and straightened her spine. Emma answered after a moment, and they both inhaled deeply as they regarded one another, fumbling like strangers with their guarded exchange of greetings.

"You're really here," Emma sniffed once and turned around to allow Regina entry into the suite. "Come in, I'm just hanging out."

"Thank you," Regina watched Emma cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing her knees nervously. She sat down her purse on the desk chair and waited for Emma to break the ice.

"Um…drinks?" Emma asked, clearly searching for common ground. "If you want to get out of here, we could go down to the bar in the lobby. I hear they make a signature painkiller that can only be described as obliterating."

Regina chuckled softly as she nodded in agreement, weighing her options. Her palms felt clammy and the space between her shoulder blades felt overly tight. Her gaze zeroed in on Emma's tight t-shirt, "The Doors" was emblazed across her chest and Jim Morrison was staring out wearing a seductive look. Emma had cut a V in the neck of the shirt, and a strand of thread was unraveling.

Regina stalked forward unable to resist reaching forward to snap it off. Her knuckles brushed the warm skin of Emma's cleavage and the electric chemistry that they had become accustomed and enslaved to reared up between them.

"Drinks," Regina decided firmly. "I could definitely use a drink."

The elevator ride down to the bar was silent, both women stealing glances at one another: nervous and uncertain about everything.

The bar was dimly lit and elegant, unassuming and uncrowded. There were matching leather couches and chairs on each side of the bar along with the focal point of a large fireplace with stacked wood adding to the ambience. It was still early enough on a Friday that most tourists and travelers staying at the hotel were still out enjoying the fruits of the theater district or out at dinner.

A few suit clad businessmen were nursing martinis and relaxing. Emma pulled out two stools on the end and waved the bartender over, "Two painkillers, please."

Regina smoothed out the napkin that the bartender placed in front of her, and watched the bartender shake up their alcoholic concoctions and pour two glasses before sliding them in front of the women.

"Charge room 658 all night."

"So your mother is paying for us to get drunk tonight?" Regina raised an eyebrow.

"Damn straight she is," Emma held up her glass and Regina met it with her own, followed by a subdued 'cheers' and a tentative sip.

"I get the impression that you have some unresolved issues with your mother, Emma," Regina smiled around her glass, tasting fresh muddled blueberry amidst the vodka as she watched Emma closely for her reaction.

"You think?" She sighed as she rested her forearm on the bar. "I don't know if you're prepared to hear the half of it. I don't know if I even want to talk about her or the-."

"—Wedding?" Regina interrupted, tilting her head thoughtfully, and bringing her fingers up to softly glide over the back of Emma's hand. Her voice softened when Emma looked up through fluttering lashes, her lips slightly parted. "So don't…let's pretend we've only just met. I know nothing of you and you know nothing of me."

"Two strangers meeting at the Avery bar on a Friday night?" Emma asked airily her eyes never leaving Regina's. An erotic chill worked its way down her arm and loosened the space between her shoulders.

"Yes, two- women- enjoying a drink and each other's company for an evening," Regina contemplated in a low dangerous tone. "We're starting over tonight."

"I wish I could like reinvent myself. Start over, you know?"

Emma's knee bumped Regina's as they turned toward each other naturally, her breath hitched at the contact. It was like they had created a little bubble around themselves; their own private little world where only the moment at hand existed. This time and place and nothing more: no impending future wedding and no awkward past restroom kisses.

"I do," Regina confirmed as Emma swallowed the last of her first drink and ordered another round of painkillers.

"So what's girl like you, doing in a place like this?" Emma winked poorly and Regina threw her head back and laughed, recapturing lightness in her heart; her fingers still dancing over Emma's hand until she turned her palm face up and linked their fingers together.


	6. Chapter 6

The bar had started to fill up with a variety of people as the evening wore on, but Regina was completely oblivious to everyone and everything going on around her. She was usually an observant person, always keeping alert to her surrounding, but at the moment she was astutely admiring and drinking in the woman next to her.

Three painkillers turned into four and she knew she had reached her limit, especially after not eating much of anything but ice cream and sweets for the past few days. She couldn't stop marveling at Emma, and how she seemed to transform from sullen and forlorn into a bubbly, confident woman who looked for the entire world like she had taken the reigns and was in total control of her own destiny.

Maybe it was the drinks or the atmosphere, or most likely, just Emma herself, but Regina found she couldn't keep her hands off. She started by loosely holding her hand and then she leaned forward on her seat to keep her knee in contact with Emma's thigh. She brushed her fingers through blonde curls under the guise of pushing the strands back from her lovely face, but now she had given up on making excuses.

Emma let her touch freely and encouraged the seemingly innocent touches, but to Regina they felt anything but chaste. Emma touched her back, a well-placed hand on her thigh, and slowly lifted her necklace to admire it, knuckles brushing hotly against her collarbone. Each and every touch brought thoughts of lust to the forefront of Regina's mind.

Her mouth was perpetually dry despite rapidly consuming drinks. Her cheeks were flushed and her blood pumped faster and faster through her system spreading and settling to her groin. She felt hypersensitive and fully aware despite the inebriation and she hung onto Emma's every word watching her lips part and then collide, and the flash of pink tongue and white teeth that appeared as she spoke.

When it all became too much, Regina excused herself to the restroom and to find some air. She stumbled off the bar stool, her legs were heavy and half asleep from disuse. It took a moment for her to pick up the strap of her purse and then she found herself wandering around the hotel lobby having no idea where she was headed literally and with her intentions regarding Emma.

The moment apart didn't lessen her desire; in fact it heightened the intense need to rejoin Emma in the painless vacuum they'd created for the night. Seeing her come into her true self, even if alcohol was the catalyst made Regina realize what she had seen all along in Emma. She knew her true self, and watching her come alive like this was truly gratifying. If only she could act like this all of the time, out from under the thumb of her parents and away from the lecherous fiancé.

When she came out from the restroom, Emma was standing at the door staring at her with hunger and intensity. "Are we finished?"

"I think I'm done drinking," Emma confirmed giving her a glassy eyed look and lopsided grin. "But we could always go upstairs and talk some more?"

"Yes, I am enjoying our talk tonight," Regina smiled over her shoulder finding her step steady as she strolled to the bank of elevators on the far side of the lobby.

"See you should have stayed for drinks with me that other time," Emma stated matter of fact as if she was trying to pin some misplaced blame on Regina. "But no, you ran away before we even had a chance to really talk at all."

Regina sneered and blinked as she stepped into the elevator car, sliding her back against the wall to help with stability, "Excuse me? We talk all of the time… we've done nothing but talk about you, about the wedding about your frightful 'Kill.'"

Emma put her hands up in front of her and took a little step closer to the corner where Regina was leaning. She put both hands up on either side of her head and leaned in close. Regina could smell sweet blueberry breath mingling with her own in the shared air.

"If that's how you feel…" Emma started low and smooth, "maybe we shouldn't talk anymore tonight."

Her breath hitched, her vision glazed over and one of them made a sound of agreement, but Regina wasn't sure if it came from her own mouth or Emma's. She was closing in tighter, heat wafting off of her body and pressing in tight and solid against Regina. All she could think about were all the places on Emma's body she had yet to touch and how maddening it was that she couldn't slowly explore all of her.

Then the elevator door dinged and opened, Regina looked down and saw stranger's feet boarding. Emma pushed herself away and flattened her back against the wall next to Regina, staring straight ahead. Regina chuckled in amusement as she realized they were still in the lobby as neither one of them had the wherewithal to actually hit the button to take them up to the room.

A man cleared his throat, and stepped forward to push '7' and then Emma stabbed her hand out to hit '6'. They rode up, floor after floor, and it seemed to take forever, as Regina wrestled with the conflicting thoughts arising and battling in her mind.

She wanted Emma, and Emma wanted her. They were about to spend the night together in a lavish hotel suite with nothing to stop either of them from giving into their desires. She could have Emma all night: spending hours kissing her, hands trailing and conforming down her sides, and over the luscious curves of her hips. She'd let Emma kneel between her legs and use her pretty pink mouth to bring her ecstasy and sorely needed release. The visual images had Regina shuddering and breathing heavily as she pulled in oxygen through her nostrils; her head felt dizzy from either the elevator ride or the almost suffocating blatant of sheer want she was fighting against.

This time the ding of the elevator startled her and she lurched forward and off the elevator as fast as possible. Emma was right behind her, pressing her hand against the small of her back to help steer her towards the room.

When Regina turned to look at her, Emma was smiling, her pupils completely dilated, lust blackened and mirroring her own. As Emma pulled the key card out of her back pocket and swiped in through the door, she paused, frozen with the door half open.

Emma wrapped her arm around her to usher her inside quickly; her breath felt scalding against the shell of her ear as she leaned close and whispered, "Oh my God, Regina, you are so, so fucking sexy."

Regina whipped around, grabbing Emma's face with shaking hands and slamming her against the closing door before pushing her mouth against hers, kissing her with unrefined passion and the slightly sloppy freedom of four (or was it five?) strong drinks in her overstimulated system.

Emma kissed her back hard, Regina felt her tug her hair roughly and the mild roughness caused her arousal to skyrocket. Hands were everywhere, squeezing at her ass, working clumsily to pop her buttons and work under her skirt. Regina didn't stop kissing except to pause for breath and try to get closer; she was trying to get more and more of the explosive touch she had been craving for far too long.

"I want to fuck you right now," Emma confessed and she sounded so sincere and certain, Regina moaned as she twisted her fists into Emma's hair tightly and brought her lips up to meet hers savagely. Emma was pushing at her shoulders, twisting her around so she could force her to the bed faster.

They hadn't made it two steps when a loud knock boomed against the door. "Who is it?" Regina demanded none too polite as Emma sprung away from her in a flash her face immediately garnered a guilty and ashamed look.

Emma cleared her throat and rubbed her hand over her lips, dumbly turning to open the door.

"Sorry, is this your bag…I thought I saw your companion drop it in the hallway, I wasn't sure which room…and you both look a bit intoxicated."

"Yeah, thanks," Emma grabbed Regina's purse from the older woman standing there and practically shooed her away. The woman raised an eyebrow as she peered farther into the room to look at Regina.

"Thanks again, good night," Emma said as she grabbed the 'do not disturb' hanger and placed it on the handle and closed the door tight; she locked it and added the security chain for good measure.

Emma finished with the door and faced Regina, taking a few steps into the room. She dropped her bag on the desk and Regina stared back at her as she took a moment to regain her senses. All at the once the drunkenness, exhaustion and the weight of her poor decisions hit her square in the chest.

"Um, do you want water?" Emma asked shuffling from foot to foot suddenly back to acting shy and nervous upon seeing Regina's own change in demeanor. Regina nodded in gratitude as Emma bent over the mini fridge and produced two overpriced bottles of water.

Regina sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her shoes, while Emma handed the water bottle over to her and looked hesitant, her eyes full of uncertainty and questions. Grateful to have something to do with her hands, Regina focused on quenching her thirst, and let the refreshing water slide down her throat. It did nothing to douse her desire for Emma, but Regina was grateful for the interruption at the door and the woman who had returned her bag. She didn't even remember dropping it, but she did remember the look on Emma's face when the knock came.

It raised warning flags and reminders that what they were doing wasn't right. Whether Regina accepted Emma's relationship with Killian she was still supposed to be an objective third party, and it didn't matter that they felt far more attraction for one another than Emma ever would with her fiancé. It wasn't even that Regina considered it cheating, she didn't care about that. She had to put herself first and judging from the dismaying way Emma had sprung away from her: tense, frozen and fearful, Regina couldn't bring herself to act on her feelings for Emma. Not at this time and not like this.

She wouldn't debase herself and be a fire on the side, not even when the chemistry and conversation she shared with Emma made her heart sing and she felt like no one else in the world could ever make her feel like she did. There were always two sides to the coin and she cared about Emma's happiness far too much to ever be okay with the ill-fated wedding to come or her place in it.

Not to say she wasn't taking responsibility for her own actions. She'd agreed to come to Emma's hotel room, on Friday night with the implicit assumption she'd be staying in the night with her. She didn't feel like talking about this with Emma, who was still standing arm's length away looking on with slumped shoulders and frightened eyes.

Regina brushed her hair behind her ear, remembering that she had packed a small overnight bag that contained two sets of clothes to sleep in. One was a modest satin pajama blouse and pants, and the other was a skimpy ice blue teddy that barely contained her breasts and the hemline barely covered the tops of her thighs.

She got up wordlessly, brushed past Emma and grabbed her bag of clothes from the chair. She silently headed into the bathroom to shower and get ready to sleep even though every impulse was pushing her back to Emma's side. Every thud of her heart was begging for just one more kiss, just one more minute to extend the easy peaceful night.

The shower took a bit of coordination as she was still heavily intoxicated, but it seemed to sober her up enough to know she had made the right decision in not giving in to her desires. A huge part of her secretly hoped that Emma would enter the bathroom, strip off her clothes and get wet along with her. All she could think about was Emma's toned naked body slippery against hers stealing her breath with hard kisses and making her beg for sexual satisfaction.

Unbidden images came to mind as she washed up, using the mini sized body wash, she let the hot, high pressured water pelt her chest while swiping her hand between her legs and finding she was more than a bit wet in a way that had nothing to do with the shower.

Regina dried herself with the white fluffy towels emblazoned with the Ritz Carlton emblem, and found she was even more frustrated rather than relaxed like she had hoped. There was a firm constrictive knot of tension sitting low in her belly, and at this point a stiff breeze might make her cum. She was only human and there was only so much she could handle in that regard.

Her modest set of pajamas had accidentally gotten wet from water on the floor and unfortunately the satin was soaked through. It was always her luck that when she tried to plan ahead she was foiled, but that is why she always had a backup plan. With an evil smirk she put on the slinky teddy and braced herself for an awkward confrontation.

When she entered the room the lights were off except for the light beside the bed, the door adjoining the main bedroom to the living room of the suite was pulled closed and Emma was nowhere in sight. Regina tested the door handle and opened it just enough to peer inside. The sofa had been pulled out into a bed and Emma was lying on her side with her back to the door. Regina could just make out her mane of blonde hair outlined in the dark room.

Regina returned to the bed irrationally angry that Emma had given up without even saying goodnight. If it weren't so late and Regina hadn't been drunk she would have redressed, gotten her car and headed home. As it were she was exhausted emotionally and physically. She had been on a high after her date in the bar, and then she had crashed down after Emma showed her true colors.

The trouble was Regina couldn't sleep. The bed was comfortable and she was drowning in luxury, the room was perfectly climate controlled and she felt fresh and clean after the shower, but she was still unbearably horny and knowing Emma was just behind the closed door sleeping soundly after all that had happened added to her unease.

She laid awake, waging an internal debate contemplating waking Emma up and forcing her to explain herself, or perhaps just asking if she'd come sleep in the same bed. It was headed to be a long night of wakefulness and discomfort. She'd already put herself through four days of it and just when things were feeling even more complicated she was back in the same anxious and stressful position. Except this was worse because Emma had spent all night riling her up and turning her on, and while it had been necessary to shut it down, Regina desperately wanted the choice to be taken away from her.

Not being able to sleep with Emma in good conscience was definitely a concern, and the other woman looking so guilty and confused about what she wanted had Regina in tatters, but if only there was a way to get what she needed while not breaking any of her self-imposed rules.

A noise startled Regina, and she sat up in bed, her body as taut as a crossbow. Her long forgotten phone had chimed with her text message notification. She crawled out of bed and retrieved it, grateful for the woman who had returned her bag after she so carelessly drunkenly dropped in the hall.

One new text from…Emma: "I can't sleep."

Regina stared at the message; the bright screen illumination hurt her eyes as she struggled to adjust to the contrast. She went back to bed and settled in against the pillows, her nightgown rode up her bare thighs and the sheets tickled her over sensitive skin.

She read the message over and licked her lips as a flicker of excitement blossomed in her chest. She typed a message back, "Me either."

There was no response for a long minute, and Regina frowned, almost turning off her phone entirely on impulse.

Instead, like a pushover, she sent another text to Emma, and held her breath waiting for a response:

"I wish you'd come here and say good night."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For the awesome graduate: Tashia, who inspires me.

"I wish you'd come here and say good night."

It was a dangerous text to send. Briefly, Regina worried that Emma's fiancé might monitor her texts as he seemed like the type of controlling type to do that very thing. She bit her lip and turned over in bed, placing her phone next to the pillow willing herself not to touch it anymore.

Clearly, Emma didn't take the bait. Which was for the best, Regina breathed in and out slowly in attempt to calm her body and prepare herself to go to sleep. She planned to get up at dawn, get dressed and take off. If Emma wasn't going to bother to say 'goodnight' Regina would return the favor and forgo a 'good morning'.

'Good morning' would undoubtedly bring a long sober discussion that would highlight how inappropriate their actions had been over the course of the evening, and bring things out in the cold light of day so to speak. Regina shivered at the very thought of an awkward morning with Emma. Her mind drifted to a not so unpleasant morning waking up with the blonde's naked body wrapped around hers, warm breath tickling her neck as they both drifted in and out of sleep, enjoying a lazy post sex morning.

She sighed sadly at the fantasy as it was just that: fruitless and frustrating. She didn't even know if she only wanted Emma because she was unavailable and her attraction stemmed from the pedestal she put her on being she was an unconventional client, or if there truly was something more to the connection they felt when they were alone together. The conflict stemmed from whether Regina wanted to spend more time with Emma and learn exactly what the nature of their connection really was.

Regina squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled through her nose, the soft sheets and down comforter felt like she was floating on a cloud. Her body wasn't cooperating with her relaxation techniques. She was over stimulated and the sheets were brushing against the skin of her legs, heating her up and leaving her wanting the real touch of a certain woman.

Her phone started to vibrate and ring, instantly Regina grabbed it and turned onto her back pulling the screen close to her face. Her heart started to race: Emma was calling.

It didn't occur to Regina how absurd it was that they were within shouting distance of one another and yet Emma was calling on the phone until she punched 'answer' and held the phone to her ear. Her mouth filled with saliva and she found her voice wasn't properly working. She whispered, "Emma?"

"Hey," came the equally whispered greeting. Even a whisper sounded loud in the quiet and dark. The whisper, more accurately, sounded like guilt amplified and personified. Regina wanted nothing more than hopefully wish Emma that promised 'good night' to bring a sense of closure to the evening so perhaps her mind and body could rest.

Regina breathed evenly into the phone, "Hey."

Emma was quiet and for a moment Regina thought she had hung up. She felt like an addict instantly alert and better now that she was once again connected to Emma in some way. "I was thinking of all the ways I could say 'good night' to you."

"Tell me," Regina whispered back, careful not to let her voice quiver.

"I called because…," Emma exhaled hard into the receiver before continuing in an uncertain tone. "If I walk through that door I won't…" she trailed off again much to Regina's chagrin. She didn't push her though, she just listened as the other woman struggled to get it out. "I wouldn't be able to stop myself from crawling into bed with you."

"Oh," Regina licked her lips and thought about her fantasy that centered on that very scenario.

"Neither of us would sleep if I came over there," Emma continued sounding a bit braver, and Regina nodded in the dark afraid to agree. She was afraid to say anything, worried it would ruin the moment, but Emma had gone quiet again, and Regina knew she needed to give her something to work with.

In an encouragingly slow and low tone, Regina asked, "What would you like to do with me besides... sleep?"

Her lips curled in a smile when she heard blankets shifting in the background and Emma's breath hitch slightly.

"You know what I want," Emma replied softly, hints of resigned sadness combined with a flat tone that sounded like sheer lust.

"I asked you to tell me," Regina repeated boldly. "What would you like, Emma?"

"You're beautiful, Regina."

"That's not telling me what you want," Regina corrected, pleased with the reverence she heard in the compliment. It had been a long time since someone had told her that. Emma saying it made her believe it.

"I want to touch you, but I can't," Emma answered, her breath sounded louder and faster. "Why don't you do it for me?"

"Do what?" Regina responded in mock innocence even as she switched the phone to her left hand and ran the tips of her fingers along her exposed collar bone while the top of her foot slid up and down the smooth skin of her calf. She was already writhing in bed at the mere thought of Emma expressing the desire to touch her. She felt sexy, and wondered if Emma was turned on with this dangerous game in the same way she was.

"Take off your clothes, I want to imagine you naked," Emma was playing along nicely, as they exchanged commands back and forth, giving and receiving control.

Regina thought on Emma's request, wanting to be fully enveloped by the wonderful bedding, but pained by the reality of how much she wanted Emma's naked skin covering her own, pressing her down into the mattress, hands moving on her everywhere.

"I will, but you have to answer a question for me."

"Okay," Emma agreed, and Regina felt a pang of anxiety at forming the question she wanted to ask. It was easier, she could hide her face in the dark, and secret questions in the aftermath of a long evening of drinking weren't forgivable.

She waited for a beat, partially because of nerves and partially to drive up Emma's anticipation. "Are you wet for me?"

She pressed her lips together and tensed her body as soon as she put the question out there. It excited her as she waited for Emma to process the question and formulate an answer. It felt like it was impossible to dishonest under these conditions, and Regina hoped that Emma would tell her the truth. She wanted all of the truth, even if she had to strip off layer after layer of shame, mommy issues, homophobia, and Emma's beard to get to it. She saw Emma purely as a woman first, everything else-her baggage and walls—was secondary.

"I've been wet for you ever since—ever since our second drink when you licked the sugar off the rim of your glass so delicately with your tongue…that did things to me," Emma answered and Regina again felt like she was heading into dangerous territory, but she couldn't stop. She kept pushing, if anything sparred on by Emma's honesty.

"I've been rather aroused in your company for some time now, Emma…" Regina said as she purposefully let her fingers slink down her body and slowly slide under the band of her underwear and down to feel exactly how wet she was currently. Her fingers slipped easily down her through her folds, she forced herself to go slow. Nonetheless, the pad of her finger circled her clit and she luxuriated in the naughtiness of what she was doing with Emma so close…yet so far away.

"Are you touching yourself right now?" Emma asked in wonder, Regina's eyes snapped open as she searched the room for signs that she wasn't alone. She half expected to see Emma hovering over her bedside ready to stop the game and make it real. But a cursory look around the room assured her with disappointment she was still alone.

"I-I…how did you know that?" Regina stuttered out, rubbing herself a bit faster making no move to stop. She had felt ashamed at Emma catching her so easily, but she found that same sense of shame only served to arouse her further.

"I heard your breathing change, and I—I'm doing it too," Emma whispered the admission and Regina strained to hear something to indicate that what she was saying was true, but she couldn't hear anything beyond shallow breathing.

She sat up then, pulling her coated fingers away, afraid she was moments from the point of no return. If she kept thinking about Emma masturbating on just the other side of the wall she wouldn't be able to stop until she trapped her hand between her thighs and bucked until she came. Remembering her agreement, she put the phone down for a moment and slithered out of her panties entirely, losing them at the foot of the bed, as she pulled her teddy over her head and off, throwing it off the bed and letting it parachute onto the floor.

She laid back down, nearly divested of all barriers and picked up the phone. "I took off all of my clothes. If you came through that door right now, you'd find me highly aroused and laying completely naked in this bed."

"Good…that's really-g-good," Emma was stuttering and Regina detected a stifled moan amidst her response.

"My nipples are hard, wish you would come over here and put your mouth on me… kiss me, suck on each of my breasts as I play with you-I'd like to tease you, dear…I'd tease you so much…you'd like it though…"

"Yeah…" Emma moaned audibly and Regina dug her heels into the bed and raised her knees, spreading her legs and wantonly teasing her soaked pussy. She brushed her thumb over her clit, teased her sensitive entrance and started fucking herself with a nice rhythm as she imagined Emma doing the same in vivid detail. She heard another noise of pleasure this time it was loud through the phone but she also heard it through the wall.

"Regina, fuck..,what are you doing now?" Emma asked urgently, she wasn't trying to hide her need or anything. She was definitely touching herself, enjoying it thoroughly by the sound of it.

"I'm fucking myself—imagining that you're on top of me- fingers inside me…fucking me," Regina found she was missing some words and her sentences were as broken as Emma's but she was too far gone, it felt ungodly real as her imagination was a very powerful tool, but it also felt just shy of pathetic. She was alone, bringing herself off with her own hand, while Emma was doing the same. As hot as it was in the moment as she finally climaxed with a final thrust and hard twist of her nipple, she stifled herself unwilling to let Emma hear her cry of pleasure.

What got her off in the end was the old reliable pathetic feeling of being lonely, the outsider. Engaging with Emma, but not fully. She couldn't lay any claim to her, just as Emma couldn't say Regina was anything more to her than the person planning her wedding. That was why she didn't let Emma hear her orgasm, she didn't deserve too.

As soon as she was done, and the blood stopped rushing in her ears, she listened to Emma finish making a very sexy sound that was halfway between satisfaction and longing, and when Regina regained focus she realized Emma had called her name as she came on the fold out sofa in the suite. Regina had just cum in the bed. Regina pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it, still muffled so Emma couldn't hear, but just as a way to release the final bits of tension that were clouding her mind.

The orgasm had relaxed her body, but done nothing to relieve the other seeds of stress that were rapidly growing. She had a problem named Emma Swan (soon to be Emma Swan-Jones.) She thrashed her head from side to side, suddenly feeling melancholy and withdrawn. The exhaustion crashed down her and made her head and belly ache peripherally.

After a few minutes of the worst post-orgasmic feelings in recorded history, Regina heard a muffled voice; she picked up the phone and held it to her ear. Emma was still on the line.

"Regina? That was-."

"Good night, Emma."

She ended the call without another word and threw back the covers that felt too hot and stifling now. Her throat was dry and between her legs was unpleasantly sticky. Regina drank a glass of water, and washed up before returning to bed. This time she was able to turn off the thoughts long enough to fall asleep, or maybe exhaustion and the after effects of alcohol consumption won out. Her dreams were murky and half remembered when she woke up a few hours later. She debated whether or not she should get dressed, but decided her heavy limbs couldn't manage to exert the effort.

That was a decision she wholly regretted when she awoke to the sound of a key card accessing the room. Regina's eyes snapped open, and she pulled the blanket up to her chin, thinking housekeeping had ignored the 'do not disturb' sign and she was going to have to tell the intrusive maid to get out. A glance toward the curtained windows told her it was early, as still dim with half-light streaming in around the heavy drapes.

Then she heard the unmistakable voice of Emma's mother, Mary Margaret, who clearly thought she was walking in on Emma and Killian, and most definitely not the grumpy naked wedding planner sleeping in the suite.

"Wakey Wakey, we're here bright and early! Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds, but I've got a surprise!


	8. Chapter 8

"Um...Emma? Killian? Could one of you come here and undo the security chain…" Mary Margaret's eyes and mouth were just visible through the few inches of open door. "I can see you're awake, and I can't get inside."

Regina wondered how long she'd have to pretend to ignore her until she went away. Who was she kidding? Mary Margaret would never go away. She could practically hear the buzz of bluebirds chirping around her over-energized aura.

The early morning "surprise" visit only went to reinforce Regina's sympathy for Emma. Her mother had no sense of privacy or respect for the woman's space. Considering she thought Emma and her fiancé had spent the night together in a luxury suite, it was almost doubly intrusive to show up unannounced.

She cringed as she used her morning-rusty voice, clearing her throat first, and eked out an unnatural sounding, "One moment."

"Emma?" Mary Margaret, Regina could hear the confusion in her voice, as the damned woman pushed on the door harder. The security chain was pulled taut. "Is that Emma in there? Do we have the right room?"

Regina glared at the door, thankfully hidden from view as she looked around the room for her clothes. Standing up, she gathered the sheet around her and tried to hold it over her body. All she could find to put on was her slinky teddy she had worn the night before when she had lascivious intention. Who else was out there with Mary Margaret? She figured if things were going to get worse, it was probably Lily.

Even if Mary Margaret couldn't see her, Regina still felt strange wearing so little and feeling exposed when she was just on the other side of the door. She pulled on a robe over her slip and pulled the belt tight around her.

"It's not Emma," Regina replied flatly. There was no escaping this situation and there was really no valid excuse for Regina to be sleeping over, even if Emma was in an adjoining room. She would surely be fired as Emma's wedding planner, and that no longer seemed like something to fear. Even if it meant she'd go on a blacklist and lose her career Regina was fed up with this no-win situation.

Still she was glad that she had the foresight to wash up after indulging in mutual masturbation with her client the night before. She winced in shame, thinking about Emma, probably still innocently asleep on the other side of the door she was standing in front of. As much as she would have liked to have her fantasy morning- just once- of waking up sore from love making and cuddled in the warmth of Emma's body, Regina had to put those thoughts behind her.

She felt decidedly cold when she turned the knob to the other room and peeked inside out of curiosity. Her face flushed instantly when she took in the sight of Emma sprawled naked on the pull out, sunlight streaming in from the window, illuminating her messy hair. She was unfairly beautiful and the expression on her face was not serene, even in sleep. She looked pained and Regina's heart lurched for her.

The two had crossed a huge line last night and Regina had to get herself together and stop staring like a common voyeur, as remembered Emma tugging on her hair the night before and whispering in a thick, hungry voice, "I want to fuck you right now."

A shiver ran through Regina's whole body. She needed a glass of water to ease her hangover and wet her bone dry tongue. She stepped into the room and hissed, "Emma, wake up. Your mother is here…"

Emma didn't respond, and Mary Margaret was assuredly growing impatient waiting to be let into the hotel room that her daughter and Regina had enjoyed on her dollar. With a panicked nervousness that was uncharacteristic she pinched Emma's shoulder, biting into her skin with her nails until Emma jumped awake. Startled and hungover- and Regina was so far in she thought she looked adorable with matted hair as she squinted from the brightness of the sun in her eyes.

"Regina? Oh, shit..." Emma said loudly.

"Ssshhhh," Regina placed a finger to her own lips and widened her eyes in warning. "Your mother is here to surprise you and your absent fiancé."

"Oh my god…" Emma suddenly became aware of her nudity and sat up, swinging her legs to the side of the pull out bed as she ran a hand through her sleep mussed hair, before crossing her arms protectively around her breasts. "Um…okay."

Regina sighed at Emma's minimal effort to help herself prepare. She picked up Emma's strewn clothes from the floor and held them out to her, then looked away to give her a modicum of privacy. She wouldn't mention she had blatantly stared at her thighs and breasts moments before. Emma pulled her t-shirt on over her head and slid her underwear up her legs. She was still wearing less than she ought to be, but at least Regina didn't feel quite so vulnerable and affected in her presence.

"Do you want to let her inside, or should I unleash her?"

"I'll go…" Emma put her hands on her hips and looked around the room in exasperation. An expression of solid worry had her knitting her eyebrows together in fear. She grabbed Regina's arm, "Wait…This is really embarrassing, but I'm terrible at holding my alcohol…"

"What?" Regina shook her head and leaned her head closer so she could hear Emma's low whisper.

"Did you and I…did we…have sex last night?" Emma's face turned bright red and she bit her lip to brace herself for the answer.

Regina rolled her eyes, "You weren't that damned drunk, Emma. Don't patronize me…."

How rude could Emma be? She shook her hand free from the other woman's grip and marched angrily toward the door. Fuck her, Regina was going to meet her mom head on, and let them both suffer the consequences- whatever they may be.

She pushed the door closed, undid the security chain in one swift moved and flung it back open, masking her face into one of steel. She couldn't help but smile wickedly at Mary Margaret's priceless reaction of shock. Her brow furrowed, and her big pink cheeks colored as she looked Regina up and down. Sure enough Lily was standing behind her, and her eyebrows were rapidly climbing up her forehead in a sort of startled surprise of her own.

"Mrs. Blanchard, come on in," Regina purred and continued to smile, as she stepped back a pace and gestured warmly for the two women to enter the messy suite.

Mary Margaret cocked her head to one side, as her mouth made strange formations and no words came out. Emma appeared from the adjoining room, wearing an untied robe over her T-shirt and underwear combination. "Good morning," Emma blinked at her, discomfort obvious in the way she cleared her throat and shifted her shoulders up and down. Regina stayed silent, while she watched Mary Margaret and Lily attempt to draw their conclusions as to what exactly was going on in room 658.

"I brought a coffee for Killian," Mary Margaret started, clearing fishing for an explanation.

"Oh, good, coffee…" Emma stepped forward and took a to-go cup from the tray of four, "Regina likes coffee, I'm pretty sure."

"Yes, I do," she confirmed with a polite nod. Emma gave her a sideways glance, and the awkward tension filled the room.

"Oh, well, I didn't realize you'd be here today, but by all means, you can certainly have mine," Mary Margaret lifted another cup from the cardboard tray and handed it out to Regina. "Are you just getting here or did you, did you, ... did you?"

Emma clearly saw the mental struggle her mother was having attempting to formulate why the wedding planner was wearing a robe and looking quite comfy in the room with messy sheets. "Killian's not here, he got called away last night, so I figured rather than be alone…" Emma swallowed as she tried to give a rational explanation that wasn't a lie, but it was obvious she was leaving out some very important details.

"Aww, so you called Regina to have a slumber party in the hotel suite! I get it! I love having girl's nights," Mary Margaret was nodding to convince herself, and Regina was amazed at the speed with which the blatant denial settled over her features.

Lily sipped at her coffee and mimicked sarcastically, "Girls night…"

"So did you two make some plans?"

"Oh, yeah…totally," Emma moved about the room, and went to sit on the bed; she looked distracted by Regina's estimation as she kept giving her confused glances. Emma was undoubtedly working out the foggy memories from the night before.

"Well, I'm so glad that the pair of you became fast friends. It's not very often Emma finds friends, especially not with…well, at any rate."

Regina was trying to work out what dear Mrs. Blanchard was about to say before she wisely clamped her mouth shut. She stared at her coolly, as she drank her coffee. "I was just about to go… I, of course, didn't intend to sleep over here, but I had a few cocktails and didn't want to risk driving- you understand how Boston police are."

"Oh, hahahahaha ha ha," Mary Margaret laughed hysterically at something that wasn't at all funny. "Surprise is on us, finding you here and not a man…the man."

"You mean Killian?" Emma looked mortified. She wanted nothing to do with this conversation, and she refused to meet Regina's eyes. She must have fully recollected the events of the night before. Regina was glad she wasn't the only one feeling angry and embarrassed, even though that was selfish of her to think.

"Yes, him," Mary Margaret corrected herself and snatched the last coffee from the tray, drinking a big gulp of hot liquid likely to keep from adding any additional idiotic commentary to the record. The woman just could not stand any sort of social silence and so the coffee reprieve was very short lived. "Well, Lily and I were coming to surprise you, Emma, because we got spa packages too. I thought we could have a fun bridal party day."

"I'll just be gathering my things and going," Regina flexed her shoulders, and realized that her lie didn't quite pan out. Her discarded pajama bottoms were sitting in a puddle on the bathroom floor. If anything looked suspicious…

"No, wait. Since Killian is unavailable to use his spa package, perhaps you'd be willing to stay and take his place?" Mary Margaret was extending the branch of peace, no matter how frail and tiny it seemed to be. With everything that was going on between her and Emma, Regina didn't want to accept that offer. Oh, how she would like to take Killian's place…but not in the spa.

Emma had informed her of the all-inclusive spa deal yesterday, but she had never committed to actually going along with her. And if Mary Margaret and Lily were going to be making girl talk and gossiping while they all got pedicures together, Regina didn't think she could stomach it.

"Well, that's very thoughtful of you, but I've already overstayed my welcome," she deferred politely.

"Regina, please- you don't have to stay all day, but at least come down for the massage?" Emma asked with a pleading edge to her voice. She was either feeling really guilty and wanted to talk, or she didn't want to spend the day with her mother and ex-girlfriend alone.

"I—I," Regina puzzled it over, confused on what to do. She should go home and work or find something to keep her mind off of this whole situation, but Emma looked really sincere and she was giving her these large puppy dog eyes that she couldn't refuse.

"Yes, please Regina, I insist," Mary Margaret nodded her head in an overly eager fashion. "We'll have so much fun together."

With a heavy and resigned sigh, Regina realized she really did need that massage.


End file.
